


Teach Me How To Read These Broken Lines

by launnister



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Coming Out, Hate to Love, M/M, Self-Discovery, a little bit of ziam but it's complicated so i'm not gonna tag it as a relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4583988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/launnister/pseuds/launnister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Louis of Monaco hates Prince Harry of the UK. He's pretty sure it's mutual. So when the british royalty goes to Monaco to spend a few weeks there, in the royal palace, Louis is sure that nothing good could come out of this. There's just too much past between the two of them. But, in terms of Harry Styles, life keeps surprising him.<br/>Or, the one where Harry and Louis are princes, Niall is a loud anarchist, Liam is a mysterious waiter and Zayn is a zen millionaire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, okay. Hi. This is the first fic that I'm actually gonna publish here, so. The title is from "Happy Endings Are Stories That Haven't Ended Yet", a song from my favorite band, Mayday Parade. (Don't worry, the music title's got nothing to do with the fic). This whole fic was inspired when, at Louis charity ball, I was thinking about the famous quote "does the little one with the cheekbones know the prince is in love with him?" and changed it to "does the little prince with the cheekbones know the other prince is in love with him?" and knew I had to write a fic about it..

There they were. The british royal family. The Queen, her daughter (and heir to the throne) and her son.  
  
It was a face Louis hoped he'd never see again. Of couse he knew, deep down, that it was impossible, being the heir to the throne of Monaco. Despite of popular belief, being royalty did not mean partying, spending money on stupid things and flying to Ibiza. At least not a heir to the Principality of Monaco. Although Louis could comprehend he had a highly privileged life, it also meant a lot of commitments. Some bloody awful ones. Being polite to the face that he was now staring was one of those.  
  
Why did he have to do it, though, it was beyond his comprehension. Sure, it could cause tension between their countries (although, as far as Louis was concerned, that was already there). And yes, maybe politics and stuff were more important than a rivalry, but that was one of the things that Louis wished it didn't come along with the royal Monarchy thing (or Principality, in Louis' case). The bullshit. The pretending. If word got out that some members of two tradicional royalty families didn't get along, things would burn. And, of course, Monaco would crash. He never got that part right, in all these years he studied to one day rule a nation. The diplomacy thing. He knew why things were like this, but he didn't accept it. How the knowledge of the price of rice somehow was less important than maintaining a clean face around people you despise. A hollow world, royalty is. In the end of the day, they were celebrities above anything else, above the duties with the people.  
  
His mom and his sisters didn't understand why he was so despleased to talk with the British family. Of course they wouldn't, Louis never told them what really happened all these years ago, when he was sent to the UK to spend some time with the royal british family, in the company of one Harry Styles.  
  
Or Prince Harry Edward Styles, number one playboy of the UK. Not being a direct heir to the throne, Harry had an easier life being a prince than Louis. He probably would never know the pressure of one day having to rule a nation. It wasn't his fault, of course. But there were also other things that Harry didn't have to go through in life that Louis had.  
  
He didn't like to think about it. He didn't let himself think about it. He never told his family. Or his friends. Hell, he didn't even understand the whole story. He tried to erase the past, but it was difficult when those seemingly innocent green eyes were burning in recognition, anger and, on the surface, in polite contempt, right in front of him.  
  
Louis didn't like that. Harry had no reason being angry with him. It was his fault, and although Louis acknowledge that he wasn't the most mature person, and, maybe, yes, he held a little too much grudge, it all went down because of him. And now he only saw news of the prince partying, the model girlfriend of the week, his famous stupid friends and his very well televised scandals. While Harry probably only saw Louis talking about inflation or stuff like that, probably while laughing with his hipsters friends, with a glass of Champagne in hand and a super model in his lap. He must've thought that Louis life was boring, that he had no social life and that he never got over what happened. So Louis was determined to prove him wrong.  
  
It didn't help that they arrived one day early. His mother told him a week in advance that the almighty british royal family was spending some time with them. Louis, like the mature adult he was, sighed, rolled in bed and said, in his best "12 years-old-not-wanting-to-go-to-school voice" "Noooooooo". It would take a lot of effort to accommodate them, he said to his mom. Fancy dinners, fancy parties, fancy everyday clothes. They would have to speak english constantly, even at home (although that was not a pretty good argument, considering they did only speak in english at home, due to his mother ancestry. French was only used to swear or in publical appearences. But, still). In reply to Louis whining, she told him how the visit had to do with political stuff, of course, and not a teenage fight.  
  
Yeah, right. Like it was just that.  
  
Anyhow, Louis behaved. Didn't whine. Much. He was a responsible 23 years old, after all. It had to do with being a Capricorn or shit, his sister Fizzy told him. He didn't see how the day he was born could affect his personality, but he roll along. At the same day, Louis searched Harry's horoscope in Google. He was an Aquarian, apparently. After reading a few descriptions, he discovered that the sign matched his personality. Hipster pretentious people, those aquarians.  
  
In the week he had in advance of the Styles' family arrival, he planned on doing stuff that proved that he was a mature, intelligent, prince. But Harry had of course ruined everything, again, by arriving 4 days early. Louis didn't even get a haircut. So, when his mother woke him up that morning, he wasn't in the best of the moods. He certainly wasn't in the mood to play nice with his nemesis.  
  
After putting his very princely outfit, Louis stood there, in front of the palace, waiting for the arrival of them, with people waiting in the sideways like it was a member of one of those shitty boybands arriving to an award. This only confirmed his theory of how some royal members were mostly celebrities. Harry certainly was.  
  
Not that Louis didn't have his groupies. He couldn't deny that he was a fairly attractive guy. The mirror doesn't lie. (Ha, the irony that UK's shittiest paper was called that). He knew that some girls hoped that one day they could marry him. Not only for his looks, of course, but he knew that being a princess sounds very charming, in theory. But reality was different. And they were deluding themselves with the hope of marrying Louis...  
  
That was when his line of thought was interrupted by the royal family arrival. It was only the beautiful Queen, Anne, her daughter, Princess Gemma, and.... Prince Harry. The last one dressed in black jeans, golden boots, and a half unbottoned stamped shirt. Typical. Perhaps he really saw himself as just a celebrity, with no duties that came with the title. God, had he never seen none of the many Spider Man movies? Great powers great responsabilities and all that shit.  
  
So here they are now. Staring at each other with fake eyes and unpleasant minds. He thought that he wouldn't be able to look at Harry directly in the eyes, but now it's like they are competing who looks away first.  
  
Their little game is interrupted by old traditions, Louis and his family having to bow to the the queen.  
  
\- Thank you so much for welcoming us into your house, Jay. I see your kids have grown a lot since I last saw them.  
  
Breaking formalities, the Queen kissed Louis' mom on the cheek like regular friends. Regular human beings. Weird.  
  
\- So did Harry and Gemma, God, it's been ages! I think the last I saw Gemma was in that charity ball, in march? And Harry, since... Oh. Since he and Louis...  
  
\- Alright mom, enough talk. Our guests must be tired - Louis interrupted, knowing that was probably rude interrupting his mom. In front of the bloody queen yet! But he couldn't let Jay finish her sentence. There are things that must be left unspoken.  
  
\- Oh! Right. How rude of me. Sorry, Harry, my dear, Louis will show you the way to your room, alright? Fizzy, guide Gemma. Anne, if you don't mind...  
  
Harry looked at Louis again. This time, with a not too polite disinterest. And also... a little bit of disgust? What the hell? Louis should be the one feeling like that. It wasn't possible that the Prince had turned out to be such an awful person. Could it be worse than Louis was expecting? Was it possible that, after 3 years of thinking that maybe he was exaggerating a bit, he was actually underestimating Harry's power of being an awful human being?  
  
Harry interrupted Louis wandering thoughts by cleaning his throat.  
  
\- Uhm, right. Off we go then. 

  


  


Leaving the screaming crowd behind, waving politely (in Louis' case) and with fake smiles (in Harry's case), they walked in into the palace. Even though by all means it was a palace, Louis doubted it impressed Harry that much, himself, afterall, having grown in one much bigger and fancier. Still, it's the home of the royal family of Monaco. They did a good 10 minutes walking in silence, Louis leading the way, without turning to see if Harry was still there.  
  
Finally, then, they stopped into a room with huge wood doors. Opening it, Louis finally turned around and spoke, finding comfort and peace with formalities:  
  
\- This, Prince, is your room, where you'll be spending your time here with us.  
  
\- God, don't make it sound like it's a prison.  
  
\- Well, no one is forcing you to stay, you can be sure of this.  
  
It was the first they had spoken in years.  
  
Harry looked at him, and then walked into the room. He looked around, opened the heavy but recently cleaned purple courtains, looked at the big window, analyzed the old furniture, the classic statues, the tapestry, and then the big enormous bed. Jumping in on it, he looked as surprised it didn't break.  
  
Louis stood there, at the entryway. Harry looked up.  
  
\- You can go now.  
  
\- Oh. Okay.  
  
Harry looked like he was about to say something, for once showing a sincere look in his eyes. It wasn't exactly warm, but it was better than the fake celebrity mask he was putting since he got there. Hell, the celebrity mask he's been putting for years, from what Louis could tell from television and papers. But then, like it arrived, it was suddenly gone, and he had the same old indifferent look.  
  
Without a second glance, he closed the doors and went into his room, thinking about how they would manage weeks together, at the same ceiling, without doing something dramatic, like murdering each other. Not that it would be much of a loss, in Harry's case, but he imagined that the penalty of that, and it was not worth it. Probably.  
  
It was gonna be a rough time. 

  


 

Louis couldn't sleep. His mind kept wandering to the past, and it haunted him. He wondered what had triggered such experience. It wasn't that hard to guess, if he was honest with himselft.  
  
The first time Louis saw Harry, he was 18. Harry was 16 by then, innocent eyes, curly messy hair and a huge smile. It made Louis sad, the fact that his smile faded with time. Each year it was smaller, less natural. There were times, when Louis was feeling less grudgeful, that all he wished was that they could go back and undo everything. Or do it all again. Just differently. They were 18 and 16 and they only ever heard of each other. It was uncommon for two royal members, but until he hit majority, Louis' family made sure he lived a normal life. Like going to the finest boarding school in Europe, but whatever. He was distant from all these events, and that was part of the reason he never really fit in the whole bullshit. But when he turned 18, returned home having gratuated, he went to his first ball. A charity ball, his mom sent him so he could represent Monaco. It was a lot of responsability, which, at the time, made him feel good about himself. All grown up. He then realized, after arriving, that he was completely isolated. With a glass of champagne in hand, Louis began to feel kind of humiliated by the fact that everyone that he talked all night were people trying to get something out of him, of his position. So, feeling somewhat guilt about it, he walked into the garden and sit in a bench, feeling less lonely even though he was surround with nothing but himself. That was when he first saw Harry. He was sitting on the grass, in a fancy suit like it didn't matter at all that it would get dirt all over it, reading a book. He looked so out of this fancy world that Louis for a moment thought he was lost. He could relate.  
  
\- Hi.  
  
The boy looked up, looking scared for a moment, like he was caught and Louis was going to make him go back to the ball.  
  
\- Oh, sorry to interrupt your reading. I was just surprised to see you here, looking like a real person, while everybody inside is doing their best fake laughter, which is not a very good one.  
  
He laughed. It was the first time that Louis ever made Harry laugh. The sound made Louis want it not to be the last.  
  
\- It's alright. I know what you mean. It can be... overwhelming sometimes. I should be used to it by now. Spent all my life going to events like this one. I guess I'm just not very good at pretending.  
  
He spoke like it was a bad quality, which made Louis angry with the world they lived in.  
  
\- I'm Louis, by the way.  
  
\- I know who you are. Heir to the Principality of Monaco, right?  
  
\- How do you...?  
  
\- Well, I study these kind of things. I have to. It's one of my duties as a prince, right? I'm Harry, by the way.  
  
That was when it hit Louis. Oh. Of course. How did he not see? That was Prince Harry, son of the currently Queen of England.  
  
\- Oh I'm so sorry! Should I call you "your highness" or...  
  
\- Why? - Harry's voice was filled with curiosity - I mean, yes that's the formality, but I'd really like if you didn't treat me like that. But why do you act like you didn't deserve the same treatment? You're, afterall, the one who's gonna be rulling a nation one day, not me.  
  
\- I guess I'm just not really used to all of this, you know? I mean, I grew up like this, but my family, despite the circumstances, acts really normal. And I've been away for school since I was 11 years old, only returning home for summer and some holidays. So I have a hard time remembering that this is my life, and everything that comes with it.  
  
Harry stared at him with big green eyes. Louis remembered that he thought that Harry was just so pretty, but had already been acquainted with sadness only meant for older and bitter souls. It was printed in his eyes, even though at the time it didn't affect his smile.  
  
\- I would like that. Forgetting who I am for a day. Not even a day. But getting lost in something, or somebody for a while, forgetting what the world expects of me. What I expect of myself. Being normal, I guess. That's what I dream about.  
  
\- Hey, Pinocchio. There are thousands of people who would want to be in your shoes. Literally, I mean. They are hell of expensive.  
  
Harry laughed again, and Louis smiled with the sound.  
  
\- No, I know, I know. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, I know how priviledged I am and I'm very thankful. It's just that it actually makes it worse. I feel guilty about wanting things to be different from what they are. And that kind of.... mixes it up all the feelings. I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you like this. I don't know what happened. I'm usually a very closed person. I... I should go.  
  
Harry picked up his book and began to walk in the direction of the party.  
  
\- Oi, Cinderella, come on, it's not even midnight. I didn't mean it like that. Of course you have the right to complain about whatever you want. Everyone's got their problems. I'm glad that you felt open enough to talk about them with me. Honoured, actually.  
  
\- That's... thank you, Louis. It was nice talking to you. But I should go, really. I've been here for a while, and I have to do.... things. Like, you know, in the ball. So, thank you, again, and I'll see you?  
  
\- Oh. Alright. See you, Harry.  
  
It sounded too much like "goodbye" in Louis head. The boy left him alone in the garden, and he thought he would never see him again.  
  
If only he knew.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they're both annoying af to each other.

The sun rose in his room too soon in the next morning. Louis felt like he had just closed his eyes, only to have angst dreams, blurred with green eyes. Day one of this madness and he was already going crazy. It was all Styles fault. It was proof that he was actually evil. He could disturb someone even when he did nothing. Well, disturb Louis.  
  
Sighing, he got out of bed, and prepared himself to a day filled with royal obligations. It was honestly nothing. Louis actually planed everything in his schedule, so that he did not have to deal with the british royal family more than he would already have to, in breakfasts and dinners.  
  
So today he was going to have lunch with the ambassadors of Greece, then meet the olive importers later, to discuss the affects of the inflation in their produt. This should end at approximately 5pm, but dinner at the palace didn't start until 8pm. Right. Three hours of nothing planned ahead. He could lock himself in his room and watch some Netflix. Ha. Even with 23 years old, his mom would never let him do it, not with the royal fucking family there. Yet another proof that Harry Styles only brought misery in people's life.  
  
After a quick shower, Louis went downstairs, to the kitchen. His family were there along with... the bloody Queen of the UK. Sitting in his kitchen in her royal bathrobe. It was a shame that she was so nice, honestly. Louis had many plans of singing "Anarchy in the UK" next to Harry, to piss him off. Which, speaking of the devil, showed up in nothing but boxers and messy hair.

"Good morning" his raspy voice sounded even deeper in the morning.

Louis made his confusion face, mixed with horror. What the hell? The guy was naked in his kitchen. And the rest of them didn't even blink? Like they didn't even realize what Harry was doing. The bastard. Everything he did was very purposeful, with an objective of destrution in his mind. No, Louis wasn't paiting him as a cartoon villan. He really was the devil.

The rest of breakfast went down relatively normal, if Louis could ignore Harry nakedness starring right in front of him. He then got upstairs, to prepare to his daily obligations, when his mother walked into his room.

"Louis, where do you think you're going? We have obligations here, you can't leave us alone with the Queen and the princes."

"Well, mother, I am very sorry to inform you that I have obligations that are actually more important than making a good impression to them. Sorry mom, you can handle them."  
"Listen, I know what you think about fake smiles and obligations. And I agree. I hate this circus too. But, sometimes, it's essencial. In this case. And, for god's sake Louis, they're nice people. I consider Anne a friend, Gemma is an intelligent young woman, and Harry... I think you've got the wrong impression of him. Listen, I don't know what happened between the two of you..."

"Nothing happened, mom. He's just a prick. Believe me. I really don't want to have to deal with him anymore than I already have to. So, I don't know, let them do some rich people stuff, like play golf or..."

"You are "rich people", Louis."

"Show them our amazing beaches." Louis continued, like Jay didn't interrupt him "I really have to go now, but I'll be back for dinner, at the beggining of the evening, I promise you. Have a nice day, good luck!"

 

 

Louis arrived at the restaurant in which he would have lunch with the polands one hour earlier. He took care of scheduling it early, so that, after breakfast, he didn't have to spend too much time around.

It sounded a little too extreme, but Louis wasn't quite ready yet to face the past. He knew that, being an annoying shit, Harry wouldn't leave him alone, pretending like he didn't exist. He would probably say mean things, under the pretense of jokes. Not that it hurt anymore. It didn't. Louis was buletproof to that kind of stuff for a while now. It just... it was unnecessary. He spent 2 years of his life only briefly meeting him in official events, exchanging angry looks, few dry words. They were always covered in humour, in a way that people didn't notice their mutual dislike. Well, it was more like blind hate, in Louis' case at least, but whatever. The point is, avoiding Harry Styles it was a technique Louis adopted two years ago, and it worked. He would've completely forgotten about it, if it wasn't for the fucking news announcing every step he took.  
The avoiding technique, though, had proven almost completely impossible now that Harry's under the roof of his own goddamn house. They've only spoken few words. He only looked at Harry three times, at maximum. But somehow Louis knew that his plan, of polite contempt, it would go down. Something about him was.... infuriating. Something that made Louis say bitchy comments, made his tongue dry and ready to reply with sarcasm. Something that bothered Louis profoundly, at a point that he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Well, to be fair, he was never really good at this. He never had much of a filter, but Harry... Harry intensified it all. It was too much, and Louis didn't like it. So, he'd rather make himself busy with duties that came along with his title.

Well, at least he was trying. Louis was now staring at the restaurant wall, in a private booth that the receptionist had prepared for royal people and shit. His bodyguard was a few steps behind him, playing some game on his phone. Louis was almost asking if he could play it too. He was way too early for the meeting. It was the price that he had paid for getting rid of the British invasion at his house.

Damn. He had to revise his agenda now, trying to schedule things for mornings too. The problem is there wasn't much to do. Ugh, why wasn't he the prince of somewhere agitated? Monaco was quite nice, quite peaceful, there wasn't much trouble ruling it. Therefore, not much filling his agenda. Hell, in day 5 he had to schedule stuff like, meet the old folks at the Golf Club. He highly disliked these guys. He didn't want to say the word hate, because that was reserved to one curly bloke, but, honestly. He was the fucking Prince, and yet, in Golf Club, he felt too simple, felt like the guys were judging him, being condescendent. Whatever. There were some nice commitments too, like visiting the fishman at the beach at day 4. He would sail with them. He was kind of excited.

His line of thought was interrupted when a guy appeared in front of him. He looked approximadetely Louis' age, with light brown hair, cut very short and big puppy brown eyes.

The guy was now staring.

"Er... hello?"

The puppy eyes guy looked embarrassed for a moment, shortly getting himself together.

"Sorry, your highness. I apologize profoundly. My name is Liam. Liam Payne, your highness."

This Liam guy looked as if Louis was about to cut his head off for no reason. Jesus.

"It's okay, relax." Louis laughed "I don't mean to be rude, but why exactly...."

Louis regretted saying it almost immediately. Liam blushed even further, and if he had previously looked like Louis was about to decapitate him, now he looked like he was doing that cruelly, with his bare hands.

"I am so, so sorry, Prince. I understand if you want another waiter. This is my first day, and I almost cried when my new boss sent me to take your order. Oh God, I'm only making it worse. Sorry, your highness, you deserved better."

Louis had to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh.

"It's okay, Liam. Don't be nervous, really, I'm just a guy. Sometimes I wish I could understand why some people feel so... impressed when they are in the presence of someone who's... famous or whatever. Well, anyway, I'm sorry I'm keeping you here, your boss will probably get mad. I'm waiting for some people to arrive, and I'll probably be waiting a while, if that's okay? I'll just order like a water, please."

Liam bowed - yes, bowed. It was now Louis time to blush. He never knew what to do with himself when people did that kind of stuff. I mean, of course he did, protocole and stuff, but. Still. Was unconfortable. After nodding profoundly, Liam left the room, leaving Louis to stare yet again at the walls.

Having returned to Louis booth after 2 minuts - princely treatement - Liam began rambling about the garlic bread and his wonders. Louis decided, then, asking:

"Liam, if your boss allow it, you wouldn't mind keeping me company, would you? I left my cell phone at home, my bodyguard is new and I don't have any intimacy with him yet... Well, I suppose I don't have with you, either, but we've exchanged more words. Anyway, would you?"

Louis didn't know if Liam was having a stroke or was profoundly honoured. Either way, it was kind of an overreaction.

"Yes. Yes, your highness. It would be an absolute honor, the oportunity to sit with an amazing leader of my nation..."

"Yeah, yeah. It's alright Liam. Just sit there, will you? I am waiting for the Greeks to come here and discuss the price of olive, but not only I've arrived early but I feel they have more interesting stuff to do. Can't say I blame them, really."

"Oh, no, your highness, I don't understand, how could they stood up a royal member? This should definetely be a crime."

Louis almost laughed, thinking it was a joke. But, it was Liam. He meant it. Louis had already learned a thing or two about the guy.

"Er, right. Please stop with the "your highness" thing." Liam face crumbled, so Louis added immediatly "No, no, I mean, it is the correct protocole, you're right to call a royal member that, but I personally prefer "Louis", "you", or like, "mate". I don't know."

"Oh. Okay. Sorry, mate. Bro. Dude. Pal."

It was a start.

"Anyway... so, tell me about yourself. I noticed you don't have a french accent. Or speak french with me, for that matters."

"Ah, yes. I was born in the UK. Born and raised. Came to Monaco to spend some vacation a few years ago, fell in love with the country, and never left. Now I study at nights, majoring in administration, and work part time in this restaurant. Well, work now, this is my first day, I've already mentioned."

"Well, I'm glad you liked in here. We aim to please. It's my home, afterall, even though I spent most of my years abroad. I went to boarding school, in Switzerland, when I was 12, only returning home at 18. I've been pretty much here since then. Oh except when I was 21, I spent a year in England. But. That's not important."

Liam noticed that Louis wanted to change the subject, so he tried.

"Well, the british royal family is spending time with us for next few weeks, right?"

Oops. Wrong change of topic.

"Yeah. Uhm, they're standing at my house. I mean, the palace."

"How are they? I mean, I've always had fascination with royal families," realizing what he had just spoken, Liam blushed. Louis laughed, and nodded for Liam to continue "so, yeah. I've wanted to know them, when I lived in the UK. I thought Prince was very... er, nice."

"The Queen is nice."

At the exact same time, Louis was saved by two guys who, he assumed, were the greeks, finally arriving for lunch. Liam stood up at the exact same moment.

"It was an honour, your high-Louis, I'm sorry. It was an honour, ma-mate. I'll be coming back soon to order your services. Enjoy your lunch, Louis, and good luck."

Nice lad, that Liam. Louis missed having friends like this. Ever since he returned from boarding school, he had no space in his life for friendship. Not that he didn't have the time, I mean, it was certainly a busy life, being a prince (well, for some). But he was good at realizing who were his true friends, and who only wanted him for his money and position. And in conclusion, almost no one was left. Well, except for that year... that year, when he allowed himself friendship, he allowed someboby else, who wasn't family, into his life. And look at where that got him. He... trusted. He exposed himself. In the end, it was all his fault, honestly. But Louis had learned his lesson.

Still, Liam looked nice. In another life, maybe, they could've been friends. Not that he thought Liam was interessed in his position, or whatever. He seemed a genuine guy. No, the problem was in himself. See, part of the reason why he never let anybody too close, it was that nobody would be interested in him. Not Prince Louis Tomlinson, but just Louis. Regular guy, who sometimes wished he lived in a musical, ate too many unhealthy food and was always judging people by making sarcastic comments. No one wants that Louis. Prince Louis was too much competition for regular Louis. So, one day he stopped trying. He had an amazing family who obviously knew him before all that shit, so he wasn't really lonely.

Whatever. He knew very well where all these thoughts always lead him, so he decided to focus on the meeting. It always worked, the focus on his responsabilities. And also made him a great leader. One day he would be ruling a nation, after all. He could use some focus.

The lunch didn't last very long. The crisis in Greece is pretty bad by now, but unfortunately there's nothing a small nation like Monaco could do. Maybe they could've discuss this with England. This would affect something, as much as Louis hates to admit. He would've had a lot of fun seeing Harry discuss this kind of thing, but his responsible side knew that Gemma was more adequate to deal with this situation.

The meeting to discuss inflation with the olive importers, however, wasn't quite as peaceful. They didn't get to an agreement, speding hours discussing it for nothing. So Louis was in a shitty mood when he returned home. It was 6 pm, 1 hour later than what he had promised to his mom. Despite feeling an inch of guilt, it left less time to kill before dinner. Less Harry time.

Louis was sneaking in the palace, trying to go through the gardens, so that he would avoid the british invasion that was probably now occuring in his living room, when he heard a - despicable - voice behind him.

"Doing the walk of shame, are we?"

Of fucking course. Louis rolled his eyes and prepared his sarcastic tone.

"Yes. That's exactly it, Styles. It's 6 pm. I just spent a whole bloody day dealing with political stuff that led to nowhere, commitments that I, for the matter, scheduled it, I went after it. But of course, that's what you would think I was doing. Not everybody is like you, you know, and we thank the heaven for that."

Harry smirk only grew wider. Along with Louis' irritation.

"You scheduled it? Why? Maybe because it's just too much for you, spending the day with me under the same roof?"

That... was exactly it. Obviously, not for the same reason Harry was suggesting it. But, still.

"Look. Go fuck yourself. I had a shitty day, but I wish I could go back now, because during it I didn't have to deal with you. And that says something because, boy, those olivers importers were annoying. So, you are at my house. You'll be staying for awhile. You clearly hate me. It's mutual. Now that we've discussed it, we can ignore each other, making our lives way easier, okay? Just... leave me alone."

Louis said all that with his tired voice, leaving the sarcasm behind so that maybe Harry could understand that he was being serious. That, of course, if he knew what serious meant. Shit, he probably didn't.

Harry licked his lip, staring at Louis with a small smile. He passed his hand through his hair, looking unshaken by Louis' speach. Which, if you asked him, was very impressive.  
"Then ignore me, Grace Kelly. You are the one who always turn around when I speak. No one's forcing you to do it. So, how about we do this? I'll do my thing, you'll do your thing. My thing includes looking good and annoying the shit out of you. Your thing is up to you. Ignore me, if you want. Continue walking when I speak to you. It's your choice. Walk away. I dare you."

They were now inches apart. Louis couldn't believe him. He had never felt this angry, not since... well, since the last time they spoke, back in England. Leave it to Harry to get the serious responsible Prince Louis angry and agitated.

Louis had so much to say. Most of them slurs, in every language he spoke (which were only two, to be fair). But also questions that had been left unanswered for two years now. He had a lot to say, so he did the only thing that would express how he felt.

He walked away.

 

 

Miraculously, he managed to spend some time in his room, avoiding the rest of the world. Ok, maybe it was not the most mature decision, but he deserved it. In his mind, during the day he acted like a 43 years old, so now he got to act like a little 13. After taking a long bath, he laid in his bed and began watching some random movie. But his mind kept wandering off to some dangerous directions, so it wasn't much use. He looked at the clock. 19h40. Ok. It was time to go downstairs.

He began walking, thinking about how weird was it, that he was going into his own living room to have lunch with the bloody Queen of the UK, while wearing sweat pants, an old t-shirt and no shoes.

"Ah, Louis! Where have you been? We're about to eat dinner, I was going to send someone to find you. Have you been in your room this entire time? Oh my, we were talking at the living room, you could've joined us. You should've joined us. Honestly, dear..."

"Okay, okay mom. I was taking a bath. I've got a headache, so I spent some time in the dark, wishing it to go away"

"And it did?"

"Yes, mostly." he looked at Harry, who was now in a engaged conversation with his sisters "Although I have the feeling that it might come back now."

They all went into the dinner room, taking seats along the enormous table. Despite being his own bloody house, Louis felt weird, dressed in pijamas, sitting in a table with silver cutlery, porcelain plates, income tablecloth and mighty candlesticks illuminating everything. They never used this room to eat when it was just the four of them, being too bizarre, old and... royal. They ate in their modern, familiar kitchen. But, of course, they had to impress the Queen and her family.

"Louis, we were so sad you couldn't be with us today "So sad", whispered Harry, mocking Louis. He ignored it. "We had the most wonderful day. I had forgotten how beautiful Monaco is, in the spring."

"I'm delighted to hear it, Mrs. Styles. I felt awful about not being able to join you guys today" Harry made a mockery face across the table "but do tell me, what were you up to?"  
"Oh, your mother took us to a tour into the castle. It's got it's unique beauty. I think it's wonderful how you reformed it's adjacent rooms, to look more modern. And "less creepy", as your sisters told us. Then we went to the private beach you guys have, behind the castle. The water was wonderful. It had been more than two years since I last swam. We then continued to sail in your family yacht. Honestly, your mother is spoiling us. Harry took the afternoon off, when we went to the boat, but Gemma and I enjoyed every second. It's nice, before the real work begins. What about you, sweetie? How was your afternoon?"

Certainly not as glamorous, he thought, but bit his tongue. Also, Harry had fucked off in the afternoon. Of course. Spending it with two moms and their children was too uncool for him. He'd probably gone to some bar, picked up a girl, and went back with her to the palace. Ugh. He should generate an alerte for people to stay away from Harry bloody Styles, for their own good. He certainly would've liked one of those for his own good, two years ago.

"Well, I won't bother you with boring details, but I had two meetings. About business. Politics and economy stuff ." Harry rolled his eyes "They ended up being a waste of my time, but still, it was worth the shot."

"You're a dedicate young prince, Louis. One day you're gonna be an amazing ruler. Let's hope not for a long time. But Monaco has a prosper future with the Tomlinson family."  
"That's very kind of you to say. It's funny, I remember my geography saying something along the lines "Monaco will never amount to anything with you ruling it." The irony."

"That's a nasty thing to say." said Gemma.

"Oh, what can I say? I was really bad at geography. Besides, I've heard worse," Harry looked away "and survived worse. That what doesn't kill you makes you stronger shit and all. It turns out to be true."

Silence fell in the table. Great.

"Anyway. I'm glad you guys had fun."

Jay took this oportunity to corner Louis "We did, honey. It will be wonderful tomorrow, when you'll certainly be joining us, right?"

Harry laughed quietly, smirking at Louis. Right. He didn't actually schedule anything for tomorrow morning. He had no escape.

"Er, I'm free at the morning, mom. But after lunch I have a meeting and then a tattoo shop opening, so..."

Jay sighed, looking exhaspered at Louis. Sure, mom. Well defined priorities.

"Fine. We're going to yacht some more. It's gonna be good for you, Louis. You work too much, sweetie."

"I am not going to be present for the afternoon events too, mother."

"Oh, are you going with Louis in his meetings, sweetie?"

Louis chocked with an olive. Fizzy was helping him out, when Harry, sounding a little too amused with the whole situation, explained that he was going to visit one of his famous friends that had properties in Monaco. Louis expected nothing less. Monaco had a lot of famous, rich celebrities that spent their free time there. He hated it, they were usually snobs and were the ones who gave Monaco the impression that everything there was futile and shallow, but coudn't deny that a fair amount of the wealth of the nation was due to turism, and those rich snobs were a big part of them. Anyway, Louis expected Harry to have tons of friends there. It was exactly his type.

The rest of the dinner went by smoothly, with narrations of their days. Fizzy, Lottie and Gemma became good friends, despite the age difference. He could almost ignore it when Harry spoke, like it was only white noise in the background.

Almost.

 

 

After dessert, they went to bed. His mother was trying to impress the british by passing the impression that they were a very regulated family, with early bedtimes. Yeah, right.  
Louis was in his bed, in the computer, when he heard a knock in the door. His stomach flipped, and he started feeling anxious for no appearent reason.

Turns out it was Lottie. Honestly, what was Louis expecting? Feeling relief, he sent her in.

"What's up?"

"Couldn't sleep. Obviously, considering the hour. Let's watch a movie or something."

"Fine."

They actually spent more time picking a movie, arguing whether they would like it or not, then the time they would spend to watch. So they talked, instead.

"I met this waiter, at the restaurant I had lunch today."

"That's nice. You could use a friend. I mean, outside your family."

"You know it's not a luxury I could affort."

Lottie rolled her eyes. She didn't share Louis' cynicism with the world. He was glad she didn't. That meant nothing had happened to her that shattered her views of everyone else around, like it did with Louis. God, he would kill anyone who did this to her.

"You know, Gemma is really nice."

Louis frozed. He knew where this was going.

"I'm sure she is. It's not her fault she's got that brother."

"Louis, don't talk like that. He can be nice, when he wants."

"Right." He decided not to press further. Louis knew that Harry could wear a mask very well, charming people, only for them to later realize none of that was real.

"Anyway, she's nice. She's recently single. She's very pretty, too."

Oh, great. What was he going to say, now? "Yeah, she sounds lovely Lottie, too bad she doesn't have a cock?" He never came out to his own family. He'd wanted to, many times. Nobody is fucking happy in the closet. But everytime he tried, something happened that made Louis think it was a sign. Perhaps it was only excuses in his head, but, either way, he wasn't ready. He didn't want to be the (probably) first royal member to come out as gay. He didn't want the blacklash that came along. He already felt that, once, and it scarred him for life. It was just... too much. So, he hid. He was on the verge of coming out when he was 19, 20. In that time, it was a mere formality. He was pretty sure his family knew, that his friends knew. Everyone knew. But then... well. Stuff happened. Stuff that threw him deeper into the closet. That changed him. So everyone assumed they were wrong, that Louis was in fact straight. Yeah, right. He had been through this "I know this girl, she's perfect for you" a lot of times now. It was getting each time more exhausting.  
"You know I don't have the time. I'm not looking for a relationship." Well, that part was true.

Lottie sighed "I know. I just think you would be much happier, you know? Lighter. Plus, I like her a lot. She would be like my sister."

"Lottie, you do realize you're talking about the future queen of England?"

"Well, right now I'm discussing the love life of the future Prince of Monaco while eating popcorn with him. So, I guess this is my life."

They talked for a while, deciding to watch some random episodes that were broadicasting on television. Lottie left for her room, since they would wake up early the next morning. Louis decided to sleep, too, wondering if he would actually be able to rest.

Turning off the lights, Louis heard music, not too far away, but quiet enough so that he coudn't recognize the melody. It was... nice. He didn't know where it came from, but he wasn't bothered by it. It was soft enough that he could sleep to the sound of it. And so he did, closing his eyes and falling sleep almost instantly. He slept a quiet, relaxing dream, for the first time in a while.

 

 

Louis woke up to the birds and the sun. What a lovely way to wake up, he thought. It would've probably put him in a great mood, if it wasn't for the fact that it was day 3 of british invasion. Or 2? Well, they arrived at night, so yesterday was technically day 1. Whatever. Every time the clock ticked, they were closer to leaving. Not that he minded Gemma and queen Anne, but, you know, unfortunately they weren't the only members of the Styles royal family.

After having a quick shower and putting some casual clothes, considering they were yachting, Louis went downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning, royal people."

"Good morning, dear." His mom said, in a cheerful ton.

They were all already there, including Harry, who seemed to do the "eating breakfast half naked in others people home" a pattern. He was today only in his swin truck, way shorter and tighter than necessary, if you asked Louis. Not that he kept looking.

"Just grab a toast and some juice, we're already going and there's food in the yacht."

"Okay, mom. We're gonna have lunch, there?"

"Yes. I know you have commitments at the afternoon, so we're planning on going back at 1pm."

Louis nodded. It was now 8am. Sighs. 5 hours. He could do it.

Louis couldn't do it anymore. It was now 10am of was a wonderful day, Monaco looked beautiful, there was not a cloud in the sky, the sea was peaceful and the sun was pleasently warm. It had nothing to do with the dark storm going on inside the boat.

Harry wouldn't leave him alone. If he didn't speak directly to Louis, he would talk about him with others, making Louis sound irrational for ignoring him. He would quick his foot under the table, stare at him with that fucking smirk that Louis had grown to hate, and say things that had double sense. He had finally found peace, lying on the dek by himself, reading some shitty magazine, by the sea, when, of course, Harry found him, with a towel and sunscreen.

"Hey there, Grace Kelly."

"Leave me alone. I'm ignoring you." It was easier to say nothing, Louis realized too late. Oh, well.

"You can't ignore me. No one can. I'm too tall and handsome and my voice is too deep for that. Also, when I speak, I look at you directly in the eyes. It's impressive. People pay attention to me."

Louis rolled his eyes, and kept flipping through his magazine, unimpressed "Hmm, sounds to me you just described my worst nightmare."

"So you do dream about me, then."

"Well, I don't, but if you continue to annoy me, my subconscious will reveal it's darkest desire. Murdering you. And then I'll dream about you. Sweet dreams, they'll be."

"Right. I still continue to make an impression on you. I don't blame you, Louis, really. I'm the kind of guy Taylor Swift writes songs about."

"What, you've dated Taylor Swift?"

"No, I've never dated Taylor Swift. You're missing my point. If I had dated Taylor Swift, she would write tons of songs about me."

"Well, those guys who Taylor Swift writes songs about are jerks, so, yeah, maybe you're right. I liked John Mayer until I listened to "Dear John" and half of the songs in that album. He's an arsehole."

Harry smirked at Louis.

"What are you looking at, creep?"

"You listen to Taylor Swift?"

"Uhm, yes? I love her music, I'm not even gonna say it's because Lottie or Fizzy listen to it. I listen to it. You won't make me feel embarassed by it."

"I wasn't going to. Taylor would've liked you. You guys would get along."

"I thought you said you never dated."

"We didn't, that doesn't mean I don't know her. We're sort of friends. We've met in one of those awards and after parties."

"Right. Well, I'm glad that you guys are friends," if that, added Louis mentally " but you do realize you're a prince, and not a popstar?"

Louis could see Harry rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses. He stood up, grabbing his towel and sunscreen.

"You're no fun."

"Someone's gotta work around here" Harry started walking away "Tell Taylor I said hi, and that she's better than guys like you!"

After that, their time on the yacht went by smoothly. Harry, murmuring something about Louis being frustrating, left him alone. For now.

They anchored in the coast, and Louis started to get ready for his afternoon events. His meeting went well, very productive and not a waste of time, like yesterday meetings. He was now headed to the opening of that fancy tattoo shop, if there was such a thing. He wasn't really looking for to it, but it from a rich guy who lived in Monaco, and royal people were invited. He was representing his family. Still, wasn't really his thing.

Arriving at the store, he wanted to turn around immediately. Sighing, he got out of the car, to face tons of reporters and paps.

"Prince Louis, Prince Louis is it true you're dating Prince Gemma?" Right. Lottie would've liked this one. "Prince Louis, do you consider yourself responsible for the battle between the lobsters and the navy seals in the bay of Monaco?" "Prince Louis, you've been seen at lunch, yesterday, with the Greece ambassador. Is it true we're buying the Acropolis of Athens to help them out in their crise?" "Prince Louis, are the rumours about you applying to the X-Factor true?" "Prince Louis, do you confirm the news? Are you a Chelsea fan now?"

Ignoring all the questions while trying not to laugh (the last one being extra hard), Louis walked into the shop. God, the questions people asked him. He wondered which questions people asked Harry. Probably the brand of his shampoo, or something.

Like a spell, he turned around just to bump into Harry, spilling Champagne all over his shirt.

"What the fucking hell are you doing here and how come you've already managed to ruin everything?" it was the greeting Louis reserved only to Harry.

"Hello to you too, little prince. Sorry about your shirt. Take it off if you want. I'm sure nobody would mind. As for why I am here, the owner of the store is a very dear friend of my. I'm sure he'll be delighted with your clearly graceful presence."

"Cut the crap, Styles. Show me where this friend of yours is so I could go say hello and admire the shop and then leave, so that we don't end up in each others throat before the event is over"

"I knew I would get you to admit your desire of being in my throat before the afternoon was over. Come along, he's right there."

Louis rolled his eyes, but followed him. He ended up standing in front of a guy who looked approximately his age, and... gorgeous.

"Grace Kelly, this is Zayn. Zayn, I'm sure you recognize the prince of the bloody country you live in."

Zayn blinked, slowly. Louis then realized he was staring. Oops. Focus, Louis. He might be handsome but he was friends' with Harry. Lost a whole lot of bloody points for that.  
"Yeah, yeah. I'm so honoured you could make it, mate. Erhm, sorry, I mean, your highness. I'm just used to call him just Harry that I sometimes forget the protocole for princes."  
"That's quite alright, Louis is just fine. I like your shop. It's got... personality."

That sure did. For a tattoo shop, the place looked a little more like the entry of an old fancy hotel, only, instead of regular frames, it's got designs of tattoos that gave the customers ideas of what to tattoo.

"Thanks, man. Do you consider getting one? It's on the house."

"Er, no. Tattoos aren't really my thing. I like them, but not on myself. But I would get them here, if it was the case."

"Well, I, otherwise, would quite like to have one, Zayn, mate."

Zayn looked surprise, and then turned and said "Sure. You could get it now, Harry, if you want. Come with me."

Louis, uncertain of what to do with himself, with his shirt still wet from the spilled Champagne, followed then. It got then into a dark, much less glamarous room, where he supposed Zayn did his work.

"Aw, Louis, are you here to hold my hand while I do it? That's nice of you" Harry was already lying down and lending Zayn a piece of paper, where Louis supposed it was the design of his tattoo.

"More like to see you in agony and pain while you do it, popstar."

Harry rolled his eyes and Zayn laughed, while preparing the ink. Harry said that he wanted on the extern part of his wrist.

"So, Zayn, mate, have you lived here, in Monaco, for a long time?"

"Don't answer that, Zayn. He's only trying to distract you so that you end up messing my tattoo."

"Harry, I could do your tattoo with closed eyes. Not that I'm going to." added him, seeing the worried look in Harry's face "And yes, I live here since I was 18. I moved here after living with my parents my whole life, wanting to start new. I had money and Monaco seemed to have a high quality life. I've always enjoyed drawning and tattoos and stuff, and, a few months ago, decided that I should open a store. And here I am."

Louis realized that Zayn was one of those rich people who moved to Monaco that he was thinking about later. Incredibly enough, he seemed like a nice, decent and humble guy. He couldn't see from where he was standing, but Harry's tattoo seemed simple, because after a few minutes, Zayn was already giving him instructions on how to properly take care of it. Coming closer to have a better look at it, Louis saw written in Harry's wrist "I can't change".

He didn't expect that. Louis was ready to start mocking whatever pretentions thing Harry had chosen to tattoo, but this... this was different. It seemed to have meaning, somehow. It was the type of thing that Louis could see tattooeed on himself. This three little words certainly meant something to Louis, although most likely a completely different meaning than it had to Harry.

Noticing his stare, Harry raised an eyebrow. "Liked it? Maybe you want the quotation marks on your own wrist, complementing mine?"

Louis laughed. "Yeah, right. How cute. Us, with matching tattoos. In another universe, perhaps."

"Another universe, hm? What are we to each other in this universe, that we could get matching tattoos?"

"Well, you certainly ain't a despicable bloody dickhead. And I for one am crazy, clearly."

"Clearly."

Zayn rolled his eyes and began walking towards the door. Harry and Louis followed him. He was about to congratulate Zayn on the opening and then leave when he saw Liam Payne at the cathering.

"Oi! Liam, mate!" Liam turned around, looking scared, and then saw who was calling him and looked like he might have a stroke.

"Louis" Harry and Zayn looked at him, confused. Liam blushed. "Er, Prince Louis. I'm sorry. I'm working here. I'm the waiter. My restaurant was called to help in the opening of the shop."

Harry looked unimpressed. "Yes. Zayn would know that. Since he was the one who hired you. Zayn, your waitress was miserable and so was your food."

If Liam wasn't so professional, he might have done something dramatic, like, dying.

"Don't listen to him, Liam. He's a prick and he's quoting hipster music stuff. You see, he's an aquarian."

Harry seemed offended "Hey. Aquarians are extremely likable people. We're just... misunderstood. You're one to talk about pricks, being a capricorn with moon in Leo"

Louis was confused "How the hell do you know my astrology chart?"

Harry froze and began rambling "I..... Sorry what?"

"Look at that! I am a capricorn too, Louis." Zayn tried to save them.

"Oh, I am a virgo!" Liam said, cheerfully. Only Zayn seemed to notice, since Harry was currently busy trying to merch himself into the croud, and Louis was occupied trying to scroll his eyes into his brain.

"Oh, fuck this shit, I'm going home. Zayn, it's really a lovely shop and it was truly nice to meet you, despite the company we had. See you, Liam, keep doing your job and forget arseholes like Harry."

After saying goodbye to them, Louis walked into his car. Fortunately, there was no press outside anymore. Finally breathing, he drove home.

"So, let me get this straight, you both went to the same event."

"Yes."

"You both went back to the same place at approximadetely the same hour."

"I guess."

"In. Different. Cars."

Fizzy and Lottie were questioning Louis about the events of the afternoon. Or judging, actually. They hit him with a cushion.

"Ouch. Yes. I am sorry if he's a jerk and I can't stand him. He also can't stand me. I see no reason why he's supposed to be allowed to sit in my car."

They both rolled their eyes at him. The three of them were sitting in the living room, picking a movie to watch before dinner.

After a few minutes, they picked a supposedly scary movie to watch. Gemma joined them, and the four of them were sitting in the sofa, eating popcorn, watching scary little girls with long hair.

Someone opened the door, and the some of them screamed. Realizing that was only Harry, they threw popcorn at him.

"Hey, relax, it's just me. Jesus."

Louis prefered the alternative.

Since he was on the verge of the couch, Harry sat next to him and began watching the film with them, being obnoxious as usual, stealing all Louis' popcorn.  
The funny thing was, Harry was actually scared of the movie. Louis kept laughing of him, hiding his face in the scary parts. In a particulary scary scene, he buried his face in Louis' shoulder.

"Are you scared, popstar?"

Harry blushed, and very shyly, nodded.

"Yes."

"Then fuck off, or I'll call your room in the middle of the night saying you only have seven days to live."

Harry backed away to the sound of the threat, but couldn't help but laugh.

Louis had to bite the inside of his cheek not to smile at the sound of his laughter.

Dinner was fast. They were all tired, from a day they apparently spent in a helicopter, flying around Monaco. Louis was now laying in bed, looking at the ceiling, not wanting to move. Why the hell did they watch that horror movie, in first place?

After a quick shower and even a quicker wank (during which Louis tried at all costs to avoid thinking about Harry in his swimming trucks earlier today, pushing it to the back of his mind, very sucefully, thank you very much), Louis began to feel the kind of desperation that you feel after a terror movie but only when you're alone and about to go to sleep.  
So, there he is now, laying in bed, trying not to think about scary girl living in wells.

That was when he heard a noise. Louis immediately turned the lights on, feeling safer. Ok, ok. It was nothing. It was an old castle, afterall. It made random noises. Somehow, the thought was not comforting.

Then he heard a knock on the door. Breathe. It was probably just Lottie. Like last night. Stull, he picked up his umbrella, just to be safe, and opened it.

When he saw who was at the entraway he wished it was Samara.

It was Harry.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they hate each other but can't help but being kind of nice each other sometimes.

It had started raining. Classic.

Louis stared at Harry. He was stood there (properly dressed this time, noticed Louis, with sweat pants and an old tshirt, much like himself) with a pillow under his arm.  
  
"Great. You sleep walk."

Harry looked offset, standing there, looking at the floor. He even looked... small, even though Louis still had to lift his head a bit to look him in the eyes. Whatever. He was not that short. It's not his fault Harry was this tall. But, at the moment, he seemed tiny.

"Er, I think I left... something... with you earlier?"

"You came to my room in the middle of the night, in a storm, to ask if you left something with me?"

"It's 11 pm and it only started drizzling now. Don't be so melodramatic" There he was, the old Harry.

Louis sighed. He seemed to do that a lot, lately. Along with scrolling his eyes. God, had he seen too much Twilight? Was there such a thing? "What do you want? I'm sure ruining my life can wait until breakfast."

"Er... okay. I'm..." Harry paused. Louis waited

.  
"You're? Oh God, please don't tell me you wet your bed."

Harry looked offended.

"What? No. I'm just scared ok. I hate horror movies."

Louis started laughing, and Harry blushed again.

"Fine. Whatever. Laugh all you want. I started hearing noises, and this castle is fucking old, and your room was the closest to mine, I didn't want to wander around in the dark. So, here I am."

"Shit. This is priceless."

  
"Well, I'm glad you find it so amusing."

Louis was about to reply when a thunder cracked in the sky. They both jumped, scared. Fine, so maybe he was also a little bit afraid of sleeping alone, too. That movie was really scary. It wasn't his fault. But he wasn't about to tell Harry that.

"So."

"So what?" Harry blinked, innocently.

"What the fuck do you want here?"

"Er, I don't know. I didn't want to be alone, I guess. Sorry"

Louis looked at him, mesmerized. He just couldn't believe Harry fucking Styles, whom he hated with an infurriating passion, was in his room, in the middle of the night, because he didn't want to sleep alone after watching a horror movie. Louis was about to kick him off, but he really didn't want to sleep alone either. Also, it gave him more material to mock Harry for the rest of their lives.

Harry held their stare, until Louis looked away, going back to his bed.

"Sleep on the floor. You brought a pillow with you, but no blanket. I'm not gonna give you mine."

"But you have two! You're not using the other one."

"Should've brought your own. Now shut the fuck up, and I expect you to be gone by the time I wake up."

Harry stood in the middle of the room, waiting. Louis turned off the lights, and lay down.

" You can sleep on the floor. The carpet is very clean. Not that you deserve it. Yep, right there." Louis said, when Harry laid in a corner, with his pillow "That's exactly my dog's spot. You're not half the man he is but, it's enough, I suppose."

"You don't have a dog."

"Jesus, Styles. Don't be so insensible. He died."

Harry sounded embarrassed. "Oh. I'm.. I'm sorry. I didn't know that."

  
Louis laughed internally. He had never had a dog, despite wanting it badly. The palace wasn't suited for a dog, with all the expensive furniture and all, according to his mother. But, still, he could never pass an opportunity to mock Harry.

"Whatever. Now shut up. If you hear a noise, I don't know what it is, but I'll be long asleep, so you'll have to deal with it alone."

Another thunder crossed the sky, illuminating Louis' room. Harry was lying in his corner, hugging his pillow, trying to make himself small. It would certainly be adorable, if it was anyone else in the world besides Harry. But, considering Louis' feelings about him, it wasn't the least endearing. Nope.

"Okay, Louis. Ahn... thank you. For letting me sleep here. I really hate horror movies."

Louis didn't understand where the insufferable, sassy, ironic, empty Harry had gone. He wasn't used to all of his... sincerity. It remarked him of the boy he had met once, in that party, all these years ago. And the boy that he continued to see, in all the official events they had attended as princes. And the boy he officially got to know, when he spent that year in England. The boy who once was his friend. Maybe that was the real reason he let him spend the night at his room. He might have said no to Harry Styles, but he could never say no to Harry. A Harry that didn't exist anymore. But, somehow, in the fragility of his fears, was there again. Only if for a night.

When morning came, he would deal with Harry Styles again. For now, he thought that he might as well let his old self appear again.

"It's okay. If you say this to anyone, I will deny till death, but... I was kind of scared too. I know what you mean, this palace can get scary."

He could feel Harry smiling in the dark.

"Shut up. You're the one who came and ask to sleep with me. Er. In the same room. I mean in the same room." Great. Now he gave Harry material to mock him.

"I'm not saying anything. And I know what you mean. God, don't be so defensive."

"Well, can you blame me?"

With that comment, the atmosphere of the room dropped, and they were back to the present, reality weighing them down.

Time went by, and the rain poured harder outside. Louis began thinking. He replaced his irrational fear of supernatural things to a very concrete one. Now that Harry was in his room, it was not the horror movie that scared him anymore. It was something... bigger. That he was not ready to face it yet.

Silence filled the room. But neither of them had fallen asleep yet, considering Harry's breathe.

"Harry?"

"Hmm, what?" He sounded sleepy.

"Why do you... what does you tattoo mean? The one you got today, at Zayn's store."

Another thunder crossed the sky. Shit, now it was a proper storm. The silence sat heavily between the two of them. Louis was about to give up, when Harry answered.  
"It means that, whoever I am, I can't change that. Despite having tried, multiple times, in the course of my life. I've come to accept that. And that was important to me. Realizing that, I mean. It's harder actually doing something about it. Or stop doing it, in my case."

Louis was surprised. He didn't expect an honest question. All Harry did since his arrival was mock Louis. He wasn't even sure why he asked, but he was glad he got a real answer.  
Harry misread Louis' silence.

"Sorry, I know that I don't make sense right now, I don't expect anyone to understand. It's just stuff I made up in my mind, it doesn't really mean anything. It's stupid."  
"No. I know what you mean. With your tattoo."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Thank you... that's nice."

"Whatever, popstar."

A few minutes passed.

"I never told anybody that."

Louis gasped. Hmm, what?

"What?"

"The reason. Why "I can't change". It's just... nobody ever asked me that. I decided that I wanted to do it a few months ago. Was really just waiting the right moment. Carried the idea in my wallet, you know, how I handed Zayn the paper? Yeah. Anyway. You were the first one who asked. That's why I told you. You caught me off guard. I guess I just really needed someone to ask. Because I really wanted to say it."

"Uhm, I'm glad. It's a... nice tattoo. Yeah, er... I'm really not a tattoo person, but if I ever did one, it would have to mean something like that, you know? I really don't get how people can just randomly ink their skin something that has no deeper meaning, knowing that it will be there forever. So, yeah, if I ever tattoo something, it would mean a hell of a lot."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean. In my 21 years of living that was the first time that I actually had the courage to do it. So, I think I won't regret it."

They were silent after that. Louis was uncomfortable about how he was absolutely not uncomfortable with their conversation. It seemed... natural. Almost as he was falling into old patterns again. Like things were going back to normal, when he lived in the UK. Except it was never the normal, was it? The Harry he once thought he knew had proven himself to be a fake one. The real one showed his true face the last day of Louis in the UK.

"Harry?"

Harry's breath was regular. He had fallen asleep. Good, Louis thought. Maybe it was a sign. That there are things that must be left unspoken. That, the last day in the UK, was the end of everything, for them. The end of a story that had started 5 years ago, in that fucking garden, outside of that party. Harry, back then, was a haven for Louis, of a world where nothing, except the young prince, interested him. It was funny how, after everything they've been through, the parties and royal obligations offered, to Louis, a haven from Harry.

Louis' eyes were now familiarized with the darkness in his room. He could see, then, Harry's figure, lying on the ground, shaking with cold. Oh boy. Standing up, cursing himself, he went to his position with a blanket in hands. Nice. Why did he have to be, deep inside, a softie? Whatever. He wasn't about to let someone literally shaking in the middle of the room, if he could do something about it. So, gently, Louis covered Harry's body, trying not to wake him. Harry immediately moved, getting comfortable under the blanket. Trying not to smile, Louis went back to his bed, and slept a dreamless, relaxed, sleep.

It had stopped raining. It was the first thing Louis noticed, when he opened his eyes, in the next morning. He rolled in his bed, too lazy to get out of it. 8:00 am. Nice. Nobody would be awake by now. He had time.

That was when he remembered Harry sleeping in his own goddamn room last night. Sitting in his bed, with a jolt, Louis looked at his last night spot to see that he was already gone. Oh. Good. Louis told him to, after all.

Something, downstairs, was smelling amazingly well. Getting off bed, Louis went to the kitchen, only to find Harry cooking, in, of course, his underwear.

"Okay, you literally woke up, took off your clothes, and came to my kitchen to cook half naked?" Said Louis, rubbing the sleep off his eyes.

Harry had an amusing look in his eyes. "I woke up, took a shower, put my underwear, and came to cook breakfast. You're lucky that I bothered to put underwear. Or actually, not lucky at all."

Louis rolled his eyes. The first time in the day. He wondered how much more would come. "Whatever. Didn't know you could cook."

Harry seemed confused, flipping the pancakes in the fridge "Uhm, yes you did. I used to cook all the time, back then... that year."

Oh. It was the first time they talked about.... it, since Harry's arrival. "Right. I forgot about that. I seem to have forgotten about a lot of things in that year. Made myself forget, actually."

Harry dazed a hurt look in Louis' direction, and then hid his face. Whatever. Louis was the one who got hurt. Harry had no right in making him feel guilty about his words. He should've thought about it himself, 2 years ago.

"So... sleeping in my room, and then cooking me breakfast. Proper husband material, popstar." Harry choked on his coffee. Louis rolled his eyes. Second time in the day.

"Oh, get over it, Styles. Jesus, straight guys are so weird. You can't even joke. No offense, popstar, but I'd literally rather die than fuck you. So, yeah, your straightness is intact around me."

It was kind of... nice, how Louis could express his sexuality out loud. Harry was the only person in the entire fucking world who knew about it, except, of course, the guys Louis had sex with. But that didn't involve talking at all. In fact, there couldn't be, so that Louis' identity was compromised. So, yeah. Harry was the only one. It was funny how the only person who knew Louis' "biggest secret" was the last person Louis would ever want to talk to.

Harry stared at Louis, running his hand through his hair. The awkward moment was interrupted by the arrival of their family. Saved by the bell.

The breakfast started, and even Louis had to admit Harry could cook. After everyone but Louis complemented him on the meal, he began washing the dishes, to which Louis rolled his eyes (third time). He was just trying to pass the impression of responsible, educated, little prince. Yeah, right. Louis saw what the papers said. He wasn't dumb enough to believe in all of it, but he doubted the pictures of him sniffing coke off a top model's collarbones give much room for interpretation. Not that he was judging. Harry could do whatever he wanted to do with his life. Just out of his kitchen.

"Louis, sweetie, do you have more... commitments, today?" Anne asked, sweetly as ever.

"Oh, yes, sorry, Your Grace, I have a meeting in the congress right now, about the import tariffs, and late in the afternoon I'll sail with some fishermen, to acknowledge their business. I'll probably have lunch here, though."

"Oh, that's fine, I was just wondering if Harry could join you in your obligations."

"What?" Harry and Louis both said at the same time, sounding shocked.

Harry chocked, and started coughing, his skin turning purple. Louis gave him an unimpressed look.

"Oh, please, don't pass out while I'm in the room. I watched every season of Grey's Anatomy, so I think I might be able to save you. Wait until I'm not around."

He was ignored.

"Mom, how about we just forget that you said that, and move on to our own schedule for the day, one that does not include murder. That Louis would certainly commit. Or I would. Whichever comes first."

The Queen looked unimpressed. Louis could relate.

"Honestly, Harry. Ever since we arrived, all Louis did was work, and behave according to the title he has. Now, I know you're not gonna assume the throne, that you're second in the linage, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't have an exemplar behavior. Seeing Louis made me think how much of a good influence he can be to you. It made me think of how, two years ago, when the two of you were inseparable, you were the happiest and most responsible..."

"Okay, okay mom. Whatever. It's up to Louis, anyway" Harry's face was dark red. He looked so embarrassed that Louis couldn't even have fun, mocking him. He just felt awkward for being there.

"Louis, honey, would you please do me this favor?"

Despite wanting badly, it's not like Louis could say no to the bloody Queen. So, forcing a smile, he nodded, thinking of ways to hide Harry's body after inevitably killing him during their day.

 

 

Louis took his sunglasses off. He was at the parking lot of the castle, waiting on the hood of his car.

"Where the fuck do you think my commitments led me? A fancy party? I'm literally gonna walk into the parliament, sit on a table, drink coffee, and discuss prices and taxes. I doubt a unbuttoned silk shirt and almost high heels leather boots will be appropriate. Keep the pants, take off the rest."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Louis blushed.

"And then go put a normal fucking shirt, and regular shoes. Quick, or else I'll be late."

It was Harry's time to take off his sunglasses and stare at Louis.

"The bossy tone quite fits you. But no, I'm not gonna change. Let's get on with the meeting, shall we?"

"Fine. Whatever. Don't touch on anything, don't play with your chair, don't make me feel embarrassed."

"You do know I'm not five years old, right?"

"I do. Do you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. They both got into the car. It wasn't a long journey, but Louis turned the radio on just to fill the silence, otherwise Harry might have done inappropriate things, like speak. He kept changing stations, even when Louis said he liked this song, so it was only natural he slapped Harry's hand a couple of times. Then, finally, they found a song they were both fond of, and continued the ride in silence.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was set in the sky, warming them up inside the car. Louis could almost forgot Harry by his side, quietly looking at the window. Except how they seemed painfully aware of each other. Well, no one could blame them. Their history was not exactly clean. Tension was a consequence of it. Along with the hatred, of course.  
Except... Except how sometimes the tension was not there at all. Like last night. It scared Louis, how easily they had fallen into an old intimacy. An intimacy that, despite familiar, was fake, because the Harry he once thought he knew, wasn't the real Harry at all. He needed to remember this.

Harry and Louis arrived at the congress together. They waited at the meeting room, having arrived earlier.

"You can move around with a relative freedom."

"Uhm, yeah?" Louis didn't understand where this was going.

"I mean, you don't always have a bodyguard with you. And usually you can go places without having like, fans, yelling and stuff. Also few journalists."

"Harry. I'm not a teenage popstar. Also, I'm not you. You may see it now, since you're here with me, but my part of being a prince is... working. I don't do the "glamorous" part, or whatever." Harry tensed up next to him. Right. The past. Not a safe topic for them. "And, anyways, this is Monaco, not the UK. It's literally smaller than your capital. People get used to you walking around. But, still, my bodyguard will be joining us in the afternoon."

Harry cleared his throat, and looked away. "Must be nice. Living in a place where I could almost be normal. I'd like to live in a place like this one day."

"Uhm, popstar, Monaco is not nearly big for the two of us to walk around without bumping into each other. I suggest we stay in separate countries, as always."

"I didn't mean..."

What Harry meant, Louis didn't find out, considering the politicians choose this moment to arrive at the conference room. The meeting went well. Harry's presence ended up being a positive influence, since Louis got competitive, presenting good arguments, better than the usual ones, to prove himself. Whatever. It was a good example for Harry too. Anne would like that.

 

 

The meeting ended up being a huge success. Louis was in a great mood when they left the congress, not even bothered by Harry's presence. It was eleven o' clock, they would go back to the castle, have lunch and rest (apart, which both Louis and Harry were very grateful) and then go to the beach, sailing with the fishermen.

"You saw that, over there, popstar? That's a prince's work. That's what I do."

Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled. "Quit trying to teach me. Yeah, you were good, I admit. Whatever."

"Don't get too upset. You've said it yourself. Your job is looking good and annoying the fuck out of me. Well, that was my job, what you saw there."

Harry smirked. "So you do admit I look good."

Louis blushed. Damn cheekbones. "Shut up."

 

 

They went back to the castle, only to find it empty. Louis picked a note in front of the freezer "We went shopping, and we won't go back to lunch. xx mom".  
"Great. We're left at our own devices, popstar. Start the cooking, I'll look like I'm helping but I'll be instead doing nothing cause I can't cook for shit."  
Harry looked like he was about to protest, but then, probably thinking Louis had a point, began to take things off the freezer. Louis sat on the balcony.

"Are you feeding rabbits? What's this whole green stuff for?"

"It's called healthy food, Lou. You should try it."

Louis raised an eyebrow. "Lou?"

"Erm, sorry. This whole cooking you food remind me of old times."

They were silent after that. It wasn't an awkward silent. It was... comfortable. Natural. The silence of two people who were used to each other's company. The thought made Louis laugh into his own hand.

Harry, holding a knife cutting the vegetables, looked at him "What?"

"I just find it funny how i scheduled my whole week to avoid you, and precisely because of that agenda I have to spend most of my day with you."

Harry smirked, but said nothing. Within a few minutes, the food was ready. They sat at the balcony to eat, facing each other.

"You weren't a healthy food freak when I was in the UK."

"Yeah, well, as you may see, my body's changed. 50% of it it's because of the gym, 50% I thank my healthy eating habits."

"I didn't notice your body."

Harry smirked. "Yeah, right."

 

 

Louis offered to wash the dishes. He acknowledged it was only fair, since Harry did all the cooking. They went to their respective rooms, resting for a bit, behind locked doors. It was quiet in the house, that kind of calm that comes between the morning and the afternoon. Louis never liked it. It resembled too much like loneliness.

That's how he found himself standing in front of Harry's door, knocking hesitantly. He answered it, looking sleepy.

"You... you were sleeping? You literally woke up like 4 hours ago."

"Well, I didn't get much sleep last night on the floor of your room, did I?"

"Hey, you literally knocked on my door at the middle of the night..."

"It was 11 pm."

"And asked to sleep in my fucking bedroom because you were frightened to sleep alone. "

Harry passed his hands through his hair, looking exhausted. "What do you want, Louis?"

"I'm bored. Say something stupid so I can mock you."

Harry looked at him like Louis had grown an antenna. "You woke me up because you were bored?"

"Nope. Not stupid enough. Come on popstar, give me material."

Harry still looked confused, so Louis rolled his eyes, giving up.

"Change your clothes. We're going to the beach."

"I thought you said we had 2 hours to rest."

"Yeah, well, I got bored. Come on. I'll wait in the car."

 

 

After a few minutes, Harry found Louis at the same spot he was early this morning, sit by his car. Harry was wearing black jeans and a white plain shirt.  
"You know we're literally going to the beach, right? I mean, sand and water and stuff."

"Would please stop mocking my clothing style? It's a simple shirt, I think it fits the beach perfectly nice."

Louis chucked. "Whatever. British people are weird."

Harry sounded indignant. "We're not. People love us. They even love our accents."

"I don't like accents. I much rather prefer my way of speaking. Just regular, old English."

"You do know you have an accent, right, Grace Kelly?"

It was Louis turn to sound indignant. "I most certainly do not!"

Harry was half laughing now. "Yes you do. It's subtle, I'll give you that, but you have kind of a french accent. Well, you did grow up in Monaco, so it's not unexpected."

"Shut up. I do not."

Harry was actually laughing hard now. "Oh, don't blush Louis. It's cute."

With that comment, Louis blushed even harder. "Just get into the fucking car."

"Oui."

 

 

Louis made a call to his bodyguard, so he was waiting at the beach by the time they time they arrived. It was 2 o'clock, but the sun didn't bother them, considering there were a lot of clouds in the sky. Harry and Louis stood still in the middle of the beach, after introducing Harry to his bodyguard. Louis had requested two, each for one of them. The fishermen weren't arriving for at least 1 hour.

Harry was suspiciously quiet. He didn't spoke much, but when he did, something about his voice reminded him about last night, when he spoke about his tattoo. It had a kind of... fragility. Louis didn't know when that happened, but, sometime between their ride in Louis' car and their arrival at the beach, something had upset the boy. And that made Louis... curious. Agitated.

Which, obviously, made Louis try to annoy Harry even harder, just to get a response, but he was apathetic.

"Yeah, uhm, Louis, I'm going to... take a walk. Unwind. Save my phone number, in case the fishermen show up before I return."

Louis laughed at the irony of the whole situation. He still remembered Harry's old number by head, because of how much he dialed him two years ago. He remembered those weekends he returned to Monaco, when he was 21. He spent a great time of them on the phone with Harry, or just texting. But it was a new one now. He saved it with a dot, not wanting it to be... permanent in his phone. He would delete it, after it was no longer necessary.

Harry started walking away, with his bodyguard a few inches apart. Louis looked at the sky. It was an uncommon cloudy day, in the end of spring. May was almost ending, and usually the sun would be warm and the sky clean. Perhaps it had something to do with Harry's humor. The last time Harry had been is this... fragile state, it was pouring. Now, it was dark, looking like it might rain. Well, if someone had the power to control the weather, that someone was Harry Styles, Louis thought. A force of nature, yes, even though an unpleasant one.

With a soft smile in his lips, Louis got ready to swim. It wasn't exactly the best weather for it, but he preferred it like that. The beach was practically empty, being far away from downtown, combined with the hour and the weather. So it was only Louis now, with his bodyguard.

Louis always loved the ocean. It wasn't anything deep, if you asked him. He just liked the way the waves crashed against nothing at all. It felt powerful, and yet, at the same time, out of control, ruthless and beautiful. Being in it was diving into the source of the power. The body felt numb, the mind grew stronger.

He was in it for half an hour when he noticed Harry's figured sat at the beach, alone. Getting out of the sea, Harry looked up at him.

"So, Popstar, how was your walk?"

Harry's expression was soft, staring at the horizon, as looking for the answer.

"Fine. How was your dive?"

"Fine."

They sat silently, side by side, alone in the hazy beach. Harry's boot was digging restlessly in the sand, while Louis shivered from the cold. He put a towel around his body. Harry had the expression he has when he wanted to talk, but couldn't just start a conversation. Louis hated that he remembered that. Hated that he wasn't able to forget the useless details.

Harry had hurt him in a way that nobody else ever did. He would always have the scars. Hell, not even the scars. He would always have the wounds. But, still. He hurt him because he knew Louis like nobody else did. Like nobody else knows, until these days. And it was mutual. He knew it was. Louis knew him in a way he doubted Harry knew himself. So, it felt like his obligation, to help him if he could.

"You know, Popstar, I never came out of the closet for anybody else but you. Well, and the guys I've been with, of course. But I never came out for anyone who loved me. Anyone who knew me. Not my family. Not my friends. I never had the opportunity of being in a relationship, because of that. You're the only person I've ever spoken about it. It's pretty clear now that we hate each other. That won't change. But it's hard for me. Hiding. Lying. Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning. So, even if it's you, it makes me lighter. Speaking freely about it. You never told anybody, I suppose, which I'm thankful for. What I'm saying is... I can talk to you about that, if anything. You told me about the meaning of your tattoo, last night. I think I know why. Why we feel free to just say it out loud to each other the things we keep it as a secret from the rest of the world. It's because we have nothing left to lose. There's no possibility of friendship ever again, between us, so we're not scared to show to each other what we fear the world might judge, misunderstand and hate. Because we already judge, misunderstand and hate each other. There's nothing left to lose. What I'm trying to say is, you can talk to me, if you want. I don't mind. I'm a good listener."

Harry stared directly at Louis now, with a indecipherable expression. So, he spoke, now looking at the ocean again, smiling with a heartbreaking sadness.

"I am lost, Louis. I don't know who I am. Remember when I told you, last night, that whoever I am, I can't change? Well, that's the whole deal. I don't know myself. I feel aimless. Weightless. And, sometimes, out of the blue, I get sad. I get empty. Because there's nothing inside me to fulfill it."

Louis breathed, for what it felt like the first time since Harry had started speaking. Wow. Louis wasn't expecting that. Harry kept surprising him, and he didn't know how to deal with it. He made all this plans, before his arrival, so that he could stay away from him. But now, there he was, they hadn't been apart for more than a few minutes for more than 24 hours. Nothing about it was planned. Life kept surprising Louis and he didn't know how to deal with it. So, he chose the honest route. Deal with it, regardless of who was beside him.

"You won't always feel this way."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I've been feeling like this for a while now. Seems hard to believe."

"Something will end the emptiness. The sadness.

"What? Death?"

"Happiness."

Breathing at the same compass, they went quiet after that. After a few minutes, Harry spoke again, voice lower than Louis ever heard him speak.

"I don't think I deserve that, Louis."

Louis has already had his heart broken many times. It broke everytime he visited the hospital, useless to help those who were dying right in front of him. It broke for himself, everytime he felt like someone was going to hate him for being who he was. It always broke when he watched someone he loved cry. It broke when he lost someone for the first time, it broke in the last time and in the times in between. It had already been broken by Harry, many times, actually. But, somehow, it managed to get broken again, when Harry spoke those words. Even though there was a part of him, the part that had never recovered from the cuts of the shatter, that agreed at his words, Harry spoke in such a tone, with his voice cracking at the end, that it was impossible not to feel... empathy.

"You do. The simple fact that you're saying that you don't, shows that you do. We all made mistakes, Harry. It's acknowledging them that makes a person a good one. That makes us ready to move on. Don't turn into your mistakes. Be better than them. You're not a shadow of your past."

Harry nodded, seeming to think about it.

"It's just... hard. Everything is complicated, and messed up, and it's hard." Harry said, after what it seemed like hours.

"Well, nobody said it was easy."

"I hate Coldplay."

Louis sighed.

"Of course you do. Too mainstream, I suppose."

There they were. Back to normal. It was a relief, actually. Harry laughed, softly.

They sat there, watching the waves fall apart, and then fall back together, for what it felt like hours. It was peaceful. It was quiet. It was easy. So Louis almost forgot why they were at the beach for when the fishermen arrived.

Louis and Harry stood up, greeting them. Louis put his shirt back on, as he was already completely dry. The men only spoke in french, so Louis was the translator between Harry and them. Everytime he spoke a word in french, Harry looked at him with a half mocking smile. It made Louis blush, which made him angry. Which seemed to amuse Harry even further.

They got into the little boat, sailing not far away from the beach.

 

 

After approximately two hours, they went back to the castle. Sailing had been peaceful. Louis had done the most talking, since Harry needed a translator. Louis would tease him later about being a prince and not knowing how to speak french. He spent most of the time looking at the horizon, but with a peaceful expression, what Louis ought to be a good sign. They were back to the biting comments. Harry, Louis and the fishermen spent 2 hours, more or less, in the boat.

With a huge smile on his face, due to being very happy with himself for catching two big fishes, Louis was about to go into his room and rest when Harry called his name, stopping him.

"Erhm, Louis?"

"What?"

"I don't know if you're aware... you probably are, being the prince and stuff, I think they need your approval first, so you probably know, I guess. Well, anyway. There's a show in town, tonight. It's this group called Little Mix, it's four girls, they're really good, and... and Zayn, yeah, Zayn, is asking non stopping for me to ask you to go. Yeah, he wants you to go, despite my own will, of course, so, yeah. Zayn told you to be there."

Louis raised an eyebrow. He didn't get any flirting vibes from Zayn, the first (and only) time they met. But, apparently, he liked him. That was interesting. Zayn was gorgeous, Louis couldn't deny that. He also seemed the type that could keep Louis' sexuality as a secret, not selling it to any newspaper. Well, he had probably figured Louis' sexuality already, considering the invitation. It had been a long time since Louis' had been with any guy. And Zayn was more attractive than most of the guys he had been with. And also, less shady, less "middle of the night guy in the bar" type.

Harry seemed nervous, running his hand through his hair non stoppable. Probably uncomfortable with the subject. Louis sighed. Straight guys. Ugh.

"Uhm. Yeah. Sure. Tell Zayn I'll be there. At what time?"

"Well, you're giving me a ride. The show starts at nine pm, so we should leave at like 8pm? I'll give you instructions of the locations in the car. It's a private area in the stadium, because it would be dangerous for us and stuff. It's like 4 pm now, so we have time to rest and get ready."

"Fine."

They stared at each other a bit longer, then Harry seemed to remember the direction of his own room. Getting into his own, Louis decided to take a bath, and then a nap.

 

 

Louis woke up at 6 pm, scared that he might have slept too much and woken up to the other day.

He splashed his face with water, to fully wake up, and then started deciding what he was going to wear.

He picked a black trouser, but had doubts about what shirt to wear. He had picked a Stone Roses shirt, but decided it was too pretentious to go to a pop concert with a rock band shirt. Instead, he picked a regular black shirt and a jeans jacket.

He found himself nervous about the show. He hadn't had a date in a long time. Years. His last date was when he hadn't come in terms with his own sexuality yet, with a girl his mom set up. Duchess of somewhere. So, yeah. A possible date with someone he might feel attracted was something new. He wished he had felt some spark between them when they first met, since he only received, in his mind at least, friendly vibes. But, oh well, maybe Louis was just being picky. He would see how the night would turn out.  
After figuring out what he was going to wear, Louis didn't know what to do with his time. He couldn't remember what he did in his free time before Harry arrived. Now, everything he did it was either to avoid being with Harry or actually doing stuff with him. Harry's time in Monaco had turned out worse than Louis expected. Jesus, he had literally slept in the floor of Louis room. He didn't understand how that happened.

Louis laid in the bed with his computer in his lap. He had yet to check the press about Monaco in the last few days. The visit of the British family was, after all, an organized strategy of promo to both countries, a way of getting out of the crisis that ravaged a good part of the European Union. He had a hard time remembering it wasn't all about him and Harry. Scrolling through the news, he saw nothing important. Nothing that could indicate a change in the temperature of politics between other European countries with them. Instead, he saw a lot of pap pictures of Harry. He didn't even know when they took them, since he hadn't left Harry's side for the past 24 hours. It was probably from the second day.

Of course Harry would draw all the attention to himself. It was what he did. It might not even be conscious, but Harry always seemed to have a magnet for the tabloids to make a circus out of him. And of course a popstar is way more interesting for the news than a political visit.

It wasn't only the press. Harry seemed to be a phenomenon among teenagers, and even some older folks. He had... charisma, or whatever. People found a special interest in him. He had already stumbled into some fanfiction about Harry's life, on the internet. Not that Louis read any. Of course not. They were all about Harry bumping into some girl and falling in love with her, settling down, saying that she was not like "other girls" and in the end marrying her, becoming the beloved royal couple that young princes like them were supposed to form. There also was some fanfic with Harry plus random famous people. He wondered that, if come to public knowledge that Harry didn't get along with him, people would write fanfic about the two of them. Probably yes. People are weird.

Louis remembered the Harry sat at the beach earlier. He remembered the Harry he met first 5 years ago. He remembered the Harry he saw many times, throughout the years. Even the Harry that broke his heart. None of those seemed to be the same Harry that painted the papers with chaos and scandals. The Harry people fantasized. Prince Harry. For Louis, Harry was always just... a person. A person he had many negative feeling towards, but, still. Human. Maybe it was because he saw him at his worst. And also at his best. For that reason he didn't pictured Harry as the emotionless, apathetic and mysterious person the press ought him to be.

It was now 6:30 pm. Louis got dressed, to then read a book or something, when someone knocked on the door. He opened up to let his mom into his room.

"Hi honey, how was lunch? I was worried about you. There was some food left in the fridge, but I didn't know if it would be enough, and I had given the servants the day off..."

"It was fine mom," he said, feeling only slightly embarrassed that his mom still had to worry about his lunch at 23 years old "Harry cooked for us."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Harry. You seem to spend a lot of time with him lately. As if I'm not mistaken, before his arrival you were making dramatic plans of changing the world just so that you didn't have to face him. What happened, the world got boring at his sight? You connected as the best friends you two used to be?"

"No! I hate him. That didn't change. It will never change. We spent the whole time hating each other. It wasn't easy."

"If you say so." She didn't seem convicted.

"It's true!"

"Okay then. Where are you going, all dressed up?"

Uhm. "Erh, to a concert.

"  
"Are you? That's great sweetie! I always said you needed the fun. With who?"

Louis ran his fingers through his hair, knowing what his mom would think.

"With... Harry and a friend of his."

"I see. Well, good luck then. I mean, if the dislike is so intense between the two of you, it's going to be a rough night for you."

Louis rolled his eyes. "Mom."

Jay laughed. "No, it's good. Anne will be thrilled. She really likes you, you know. She talked a lot about you, today. How lucky I am. How she expects Harry to grew into a man with responsibilities, such as yourself. And how happy she was that you two were spending the day together. I think you left a great impression in the Styles when you lived with them."

Louis often felt uncomfortable, when the Queen expressed fondness towards Louis comparing him to Harry. It'd happened a lot, when he lived with them. They were different people. There was nothing to compare. He suspected it was only a way to point flaws in Harry. Which, Louis was on board, of course. But not like that. That seemed low. Seemed to really hurt. They both were better than that.

 

 

One hour later, Louis went downstairs. Harry was waiting in the living room. He was in his cell phone, with his usual black trousers and half buttoned shirt. Looking up, he saw Louis. They stared at each other.

"You look nice."

Louis didn't understand where this was going. "Uhm... okay?"

They held the gaze for a few seconds, then began moving towards the direction of the vehicle. They were about to get into the car, when Harry stopped him, making Louis turn around.

"Look. I'm sorry I laid it all on you, earlier. My problems and thoughts and stuff... I hope you won't see me different, after that. Treat me different. That it won't change anything."

He sounded... distressed, afflicted. Like it was somehow important, for him, that nothing changed. That, that small part of Harry that he had genuinely shown to Louis was kept as a secret even after it was exposed. Louis had a quirk smile, deciding to deal with the subject lightly. "Nope. Still hate you."  
Harry smiled, for once hitting his eyes, and nodded. "Good."

They sat in the car, in a comfortable silence. Harry landed Louis the directions of the concert, and they began driving. It was peaceful, almost. The sun was setting down in Monaco. They passed in front of the beach, with a couple of tourists enjoying the late afternoon. The lights started flickering, blurring through their windows as they passed by.  
The concert was going to take place in a medium size club, one of those very fancy and posh clubs that Louis often received invitations to honor with his presence. The air was chill outside, the stars fading among the neon lights that illuminated their faces, originated from the club. There was music inside, but, as they stood in the sideways, after parking the car, it was baffled and combined with people's laughter and people's life.

There was a big line waiting to be inside, but Harry and Louis didn't even have to blink before an receptionist showed them another door, from where they could get in without waiting or being seen by anyone.

As they walked to their session, Louis confessed. "I feel embarrassed, cutting the line and not paying and stuff."

Harry, to Louis' surprise, instead of mocking him or rolling his eyes, smiled shyly. "Yeah, me too."

Their booth was private, dark, expensive, and also filled with people Louis only knew from the papers. He couldn't help but laugh at the situation. He had planned everything to not even look at Harry's face, and now he was stuck with him in a booth filled with people he had avoided his whole life. And worse, he got there at his own free will. He made a choice, and it led him there, at that moment.

They stood in the middle of the place, looking around. There were people socializing all around, and the show didn't start for another 30 minutes.

Louis cleared his throat. "So... you said Zayn would meet us here?"

Harry looked distracted. "Oh, yeah, he should be arriving at any minute..."

Harry looked at him awkwardly, seeming out of place. Which was ridiculous, since it was his world, Louis being only a guest. So, he turned around, to grab a beer, and when he came back, Harry was talking to some couple that, if Louis wasn't mistaken, lived in Monaco and were involved with races, Formula 1 and stuff. So he turned around again, staring at the floor and the walls, waiting for someone to talk to him, since most people were already involved in their conversations. And that happened when a guy, probably in his late twenties, came and talk to him.

"Prince Louis attending a show in a Wednesday night, what an honor to the artist."

He recognized Greg James, radio host adored in Monaco, some kind of celebrity.

They shook their hands. "Oh, no, really, I'm glad to be here."

"Are you accompanied?"

"Uhm, sort of? Yeah, Harry's staying at my house, and his friend kind of invited me, so we came."

"Right. Prince Harry of UK. Your house you mean the palace. The usual stuff."

Louis laughed. "Sorry. It is the usual for me, I forget about the implications of those things outside my own world."

"Yeah, no, I know what you mean. Specially when you circulate through the rich famous life of Monaco so little."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, I prefer to stay home, with my family. My mother, by the way, is a big fan of your show."

Greg widened his eyes. "What, you mean, Prince Jay, the regent of this nation, listen to my show? And likes it?"

"Well, when you put it like that I see what you're dazed about. But she loves it. Listen to it as often as she can."

They began, then, to chat like old friends. It was nice. Louis thought that he would've to act fake for most of the night, when they arrived to the booth. But Greg felt genuine, which made the conversation natural. That was until he asked, at some point:

"So, did you and Harry come together? As in, a date?"

Louis nearly choked in his bear "What? What makes you say that?"

"No reason. You just told me that you came together, and he keeps looking at us, so I was afraid I was interrupting something."

Louis dazed a look at Harry's direction. He was now very entertained in a conversation with people Louis didn't recognize, so he thought maybe Greg was seeing things.

"Well, no, I'm most definitely not."

"Good."

"Why?"

"So then I can ask your number without looking like a jerk."

This time Louis definitely chocked in his bear. Widening his eyes, he looked confused. "How did you..."

"Knew you weren't straight?" Louis nodded, hesitantly. "Well, I didn't, but your reaction to my comment about you and Harry together gave me the clue. Also, I just thought you were really handsome and thought I should give it a try."

Louis looked around, not knowing exactly how to answer it. "Oh."

Greg smiled. "I'll grab you another beer. Wait here."

After a few seconds, the girls got in the stage, and the show started, which made a mess of the booth, everybody moving into the front to have a better view. He was pushed away, and then Harry grabbed his arm, calling his name.

"Louis! What are you doing? Zayn has arrived."

He turned around, realizing he was already a little dipsy from the beers he had, to meet Harry's angry gaze.

"What? Where's he?"

"I don't know, I lost him too."

Despite the show having started, Harry and Louis went on a search for Zayn. Louis thought it was pointless, since the booth wasn't that big, they would've seen it already, so he probably must have left. Just when he was about to express this thought out loud, Harry turned around and his face froze in surprise.

In a dark corner, hidden beside the door, Zayn was there. Except... Except he was not alone, being molded into someone else's body. Harry cleared his throat, and they turned around.

Which made Harry and Louis widened their eyes even furhter, considering that, after they stopped snogging each other and separated enough to identify his face, they recognized Liam.

The four of them stood still, looking awkwardly at each other. Louis stole Harry's beer from his hand and took a sip.

"Zayn? What the hell?" Harry's voice was filled with shock, but Zayn's face had a large smile, seeming oblivious to the "what the fuck" atmosphere around him. Liam seemed to want to vanish into the wall, making himself small.

"Hi guys! I think you remember Liam, Harry, he was the waiter at the opening of my shop. Louis, I believe you remember him too."

Louis nodded his head, and Harry raised an eyebrow. "Not as well as you do, apparently." His voice now was filled with teasing, which made Liam blush, but look less terrified.  
Zayn laughed. "Well, after you guys left my party, Liam and I started talking and we clicked. So I asked him out on a date, and, yeah, here we are. We clicked some more."

Harry and Louis laughed, in an awkward way. Liam smiled fondly at Zayn. Jesus, they were already at that level? The click thing seemed to got them real bad.

"Anyway, Louis, I'm glad you could make it! Harry was - "

"Alright Zayn!" Harry interrupted him. "We'll leave you alone now, enjoy the rest of the show or the rest of the snogging, bye!"

Harry grabbed Louis' arm and pushed him further away from them, not giving him time to object. He then let Louis go, and got lost in the crowd. Confused, Louis went to the front of the cabin to enjoy the show.

The girlband, Little Mix, was really good. They threw a hell of a show. They were now singing happy birthday to a girl named Julia, when Louis thought about Greg, who went to grab him a drink, but them Harry showed up and everything was a mess after that. He completely forgot, and now Greg was nowhere at sight.

Harry, on the other had, was everywhere at sight. He kept appearing at Louis field of view, and then he was right beside him, leaning on the window that had the best view of the show, with a new beer in his hand.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"So... Zayn was asking me, insistently, that I came to the show, uhm?"

"He was!"

"Right. So he was kind of asking me out, to then end up the night sucking another man's face."

"It wasn't a date. He just wanted you here. Do you wish it was your face he was all over?"

Louis stared at him. "Shut up. I don't. There's no spark between Zayn and I. Except like, friends spark, and stuff. It's just been... a long time."

"Really? How long?"

Louis turned his head abruptly in Harry's direction, annoyance filling his voice. "How's that any of your business?"

Harry laughed and gave him a mocking smile. "Nothing, indeed. Just wanted to make fun of you. You do seem a little tense." Harry close a little bit more the space between them. "You know, frustrated. Sexually."

Louis could feel that Harry was also a bit tipsy, so he decided to ignore him, taking two steps back.

He decided to find Greg, to apologize for standing him up and also, maybe, who knows, give him his phone number. But, apparently, he had already left, since he was nowhere to be seen in the not too big cabin.

So Louis watched the show. It had been a long time since he had the time to go to one. Not only the time, but the liberty. Musicians don't come to Monaco very often, well, at least not to perform shows. So, whenever he wanted to go to one, he had to fly to England, or Paris. And he didn't have the time or energy these days. So, even though the company for the night was kind of lame, and many things had gone wrong, he was happy right there, watching the concert, drinking beer and pretending there was absolutely no responsibility over his shoulders, no heavy bag to carry within his walk.

There were photographers everywhere in the booth. You could barely see, due to the flash of the camera. It was fine, he supposed. They would print those images into the papers tomorrow morning, and get their story. It was how it worked. He hadn't shown in the papers for a while now, it was a good thing, having people know that he was still alive.  
After few songs, Harry showed up by his side again, apparently bored after having talked to everybody through the night, leaving Louis as his only option. He stood next to him, until Louis decided to start conversation. He must have really had too much to drink.

"So... Zayn and Liam, uhm?"

Harry looked up, as if he had forgotten Louis was beside him, and it was lost among his own thoughts. "Yeah... It also took me by surprise." He shook his head, then look like he was about to say something but stopped.

Louis was curious. And drunk. "What?"

"Nothing, I just... I could've sworn Liam was into you!"

Louis rolled his eyes. Typical. "Oh. Right. Because I'm gay, so I must be fucking every guy I talk to. God, I wish that were true."

Harry looked at Louis with a funny expression "Yeah, well, you assume I'm with every girl I'm seen with."

"That's not my fault, you generally are." Louis words were passive aggressive, but the smile on his face denounced that he was secretly joking and having fun. God, with Harry. What a thought.

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes (apparently it was a thing that Harry did a lot in Louis' presence too). "Whatever. It's not like I ever confirmed any girlfriend officially. It was only ever speculation."

"Well, have you ever had any official girlfriends?"

"Uhm, no."

"I figured it. You're too busy living life to the extremes, or whatever." They stared at each other, inches apart, with weird and uncommon smiles. "Besides, you have Venus in Aquarius. You don't get romantically attached too easily."

Harry gasped. "How do you...?"

Louis turned his head to the side, licked his lip and smiled.

"You're not the only one snooping into someone else's astrology chart."

He walked away, pursuing another beer. God, maybe he didn't need another beer. Perhaps he had already drank too much, because... was he... was he flirting? Jesus, did he try to flirt with Harry Styles?

He needed to sober up now, so Louis picked water instead of beer. God knows what he would do if he continued to drink. Maybe out himself in the middle of the show. Going back to his place, he saw that Harry wasn't there anymore. He was in a corner, snogging a girl Louis didn't recognized. Oh, well. He shrugged. That was the price to pay to accidentally flirt with straight boys. Having them assure their sexuality right in front of you. Jesus. It wasn't like he was surprised. It had always been like this between the two of them. Even when they were best friends for fucking ever

.  
Zayn and Liam, after some time, joined Louis, which he was grateful for, since it was getting kind of annoying enjoying the show without someone to comment about it. It was nice, he hit well with them. Louis felt embarrassed that he ever thought Zayn was asking him out. Maybe Lottie was right. Maybe he really needed to see someone. Well, not the "someones" she ought him to see. But, still.

The show ended, and Louis' bodyguard was waiting in front of the club for him. He was going to drive, which was good, considering Harry and Louis had both consumed alcohol. Harry who, speaking of him, was stumbling now out of the club, alone, looking confused, probably too drunk to remember where he was supposed to go, where they parked the car.

"Hey. Popstar. That direction. Careful not stumbling on your own feet."

Flashes blinded Louis' vision for a minute. Damn paparazzi. Great. They would be on the front page of every outlet by the morning. Anne would be thrilled about the great influence he had on her son, who was now supporting half of his weight on Louis shoulders.

They got in the car, flashes passing by them. Louis felt oddly safe and comfortable, watching the paparazzi and the unknown people appear each time smaller as the car drove away, sat in the backseat with his jacket around him, chilly air hugging him, city lights blurring beside him in the empty streets, and a drunk Harry sat next to him.  
They arrived at the castle 30 minutes later. Thanking the bodyguard, Louis helped Harry out of the car and into his room. He was much better since he left the club, but his feet kept going into the direction of Louis' room, which it was a clear sign that he hadn't sober up a bit.

"No, no Harry, this is my room, your room is down the hall, come on, you're much taller than I am, it's hard for me. God, I hope you won't remember I said that, in the morning."  
He managed to put Harry inside his room. He laid in his bed, and just when Louis was about to walk away, he spoke, his words barely a whisper.

"I know it is. I just don't want to be alone"

"What, are you still afraid of that stupid movie?"

"No." His words were mixing together, making it hard for Louis to understand. "I wasn' t afraid last night either."

Louis froze, just as he was about to leave through the door. "What was it then?"

"I was lonely." Louis stepped closer, until he was by the other side of Harry's bed. "Where are the people? It’s a little lonely in the desert…”

He almost laughed, in surprise. It was a thing Harry and Louis used to do, see. Once upon a time, they were two little princes who could only rely on each other. So they found comfort in books. Specially "The Little Prince", since, obviously, it was relatable. They read to each other all the time. Harry loved the cliche of it all, two literal princes reading about a metaphorical prince, and quoting to each other. The fact that Harry still knew how to quote the book, after all those years and drunk, spread a soft smile in Louis' face.  
"It is lonely when you’re among people, too, popstar" he continued the quote.

He was now sitting in the bed next to Harry, who had closed his eyes, but also had a small smile in his sleepy drunk face.

"I know."

A few minutes passed by until Harry spoke again. "Louis?"

"Uhm?"

"Stay here until I fall asleep? Please?"

"That's what I'm doing, you idiot."

"Oh."

Louis smiled, as a thought passed his head. "You know, popstar, today you woke up at my bedroom, then cooked me breakfast, then made lunch for the both of us, spent the afternoon in the beach with me, then convinced me to go on a concert with you. Now I'm waiting for you to fall asleep."

"It was Zayn who wanted you there."

Louis smirked. "Right."

Moments went by, and Louis was just about to stand up and go to his room, as he thought Harry was finally asleep, when he heard his name.

"Louis?"

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't Zayn. "

"It was you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

Louis thought about it. "Why?"

"I was lonely."

And then he fell asleep.

 

 

Louis woke up with a headache, obviously. The light in his room was too bright, since he forgot to close the curtains when he stumbled into his bed, after spending some time reflecting at Harry's bed, looking at the ceiling, long after the other boy had fallen asleep.

He checked his phone. 8:00 am. There's no way in hell that he would be able to get up now and do his obligations. He would have, in this morning, the second meeting about the olives. So, yeah, no. His bed seemed way nicer. He went downstairs, took an aspirin, called to say that he wasn't able to go, that something had come up, and went back to bed, this time closing the curtains, sleeping almost instantly.

When Louis woke up again, it was already 13:00 pm. Fuck. He had the golf thing in the afternoon. Jesus, why the hell did he scheduled all those things. Not even facing Harry could be worse than getting off the bed.

At least his headache had gone away, he kept thinking, trying to be positive, when he went downstairs. The palace was empty, but there was food on the fridge. He sat on the balcony, eating, when he picked his phone to see the news. Which almost made him drop his fork.

In every paper of Monaco, there were pictures, in front page, of him and Harry, leaving the club. Harry was leaned on him, but Louis also looked drunk as fuck. Great. Since it was two princes, the pictures were picked by many outlets around the world. Last night he was too drunk to thought about the consequences, but, Jesus. He had hang out with Harry to pass a bit of his good responsible guy image, but instead ended up picking Harry's image.

Some online papers were already writing about how he had avoided his commitments with the olive people. Jesus. Years and years building a responsible image, to make it all go down in one single night. The articles were kind of ridiculous, if you asked him. Some talked about how he picked up several girls to go back to the castle. Alright, then. Still very much in the closet.

Sighing, he went upstairs to get ready to go to this golf event. Nobody was home, which he wasn't surprised, considering the hour. Harry was probably still asleep, considering that he was way worse than Louis last night. He wasn't sure if Anne had wanted only a day for them so spend together, but that was what she was getting. He would go to the club, then come back home and then get into his room. He promised to himself that today he would be able to avoid Harry Styles. Stay away from Harry, yeah, it seemed a reasonable promise. Achievable.

 

 

Turns out it wasn't. Oh, well. When Louis arrived at the golf club, Harry was there, pretentiously playing among middle age rich men. Of course. He just had to be everywhere.  
Not that he would ever admit it out loud, but Louis was actually relieved. Between Harry and those men, he would choose Harry in a heartbeat. They really bugged Louis.

The men who were playing with him were, coincidentally, the same who Louis had marked a meeting with. Which meant that Louis was now walking towards them, crossing the field, trying not to stumble at those goddamn wholes in the ground.

Harry noticed him at first, giving him a smile that, at this point, he couldn't tell whether it was a genuine one or not. Harry was rather confusing to Louis. When he first arrived at Monaco, it had been simple. Hate him. Ignore him. It was so much easier at the begging, when Louis had a clear impression of Harry in his mind. Now, it was all confusing. The Harry who had slept on the floor of his room. The Harry who had opened himself at the beach to Louis. The Harrry who had cooked him lunch. The Harry who had drunkenly confessed being lonely. They were all together in Louis' mind along with the impression he previously had of him. And, of course, buried deep inside of Louis' mind, the Harry he had once knew and befriended, all these years ago. They were all running freely in his brain, which made Louis uncertain of how to treat him or act around him.

"Louis! We were expecting you. You're actually 20 minutes late, but we predicted that."

That pleasant soul was Simon Cowell, one of the headmasters of the golf club. Among with a bunch of others guys alike him, they loved to judge Louis and disapprove with his (and his mother's) actions, considering it "too liberal" (not in an economic way), "too little traditional". Despite being their prince, they didn't respect Louis a bit, probably due to age difference and because Louis made no effort to please those conservatives pricks. The meeting had been called on their behalf. They invited Louis supposedly to drink tea and golf, but it was just an excuse to try to convince Louis to approve some really conservative laws.

They apparently liked Harry a lot, though. He must have charmed them, or something. Or it was simply the fact that Harry, being the prince of the UK, had no direct way of ruling Monaco, therefore, they got nothing to complain.

"Well, I tried to get here earlier, but I had to contain my enthusiasm. So I spent 20 minutes in the bathroom screaming on the prospect of seeing you."

"I see. Get in a golf car and go pick your materials."

He got in the car who was next to him. The driver was a blonde, young guy, probably around Louis' age.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" Louis tried to start a conversation.

"I'd rather not hear your voice, thanks."

That was... okay. That was rude. And unexpected. Louis grew up as a prince, so he was used to people treating him in a special manner, but he was pretty sure this was not acceptable even in normal manners. This guy could probably be fired for speaking to costumers like that. Well, not in that club. Jesus, maybe he was being encouraged to treat him like that. Had this gone too far? Had those middle age men completed abandoned the appearances?

"Uhm, sorry?"

"You heard me. It's bad enough driving you around. Your voice makes me wanna crash the vehicle, so. No talking."

Okay, now Louis was highly offended by his tone. He wondered if he could order someone to take his head off, or something. Wait, wasn't it actually the opposite, in the French Revolution? Commoners chopping the royalty heads off? God, it was best to keep his mouth shut, or this guy could have some ideas regarding Louis' neck.

"Fine. Jesus."

The guy's face went red. "I said no talking!"

Louis only nodded this time, having learned his lesson. He just counted the minutes till he could get out of that shit show.

After picking up the materials required to play golf, he went back to join them. Harry was laughing loudly with them, which only made Louis' eyes roll. They had nothing in common. Louis hated pleasuring people just for the sake of it. It was in moments like this that he reminded why he had no business by Harry's side. Which was good, yeah. A good reminder.

"Louis. Glad you got your material. Start golfing with us now, son, then we'll have more time to catch up over tea."

"Lovely." He didn't know what sounded worse. Golf was terribly boring to him. He ended up in a spot next to Harry, giving them the opportunity to talk.

"What are you doing here? Run while you still can."

Harry smiled, not looking at him, occupied trying to play.

"I actually happen to like golf. If that means I have to put up with those men, then be it. Playing it clears my mind."

"Really? There are other things involving balls and holes that sound way more appealing to me."

Harry lost his concentration, turning to him, blushing. Blushing. Louis frowned.

"What are you, twelve?"

"Jesus, you can't go around saying sexual innuendos like that."

"Oh, why not? You straight people say things like that all the time."

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but before he could make any sound, Simon decided it was tea time. He probably was losing the game, or something. Arsehole.

They all went inside the club, and sat at the round table, prepared with tea, of course, biscuits and that kind of stuff. Louis had to admire their effort into tricking him to approve something horrendous, like, death penalty.

"So, Louis," one of them started, as they filled their cups with tea "it's always nice to have you here, catching up with us. You should come more often."

Ha. "Sure." He gave them his best fake smile, but they probably couldn't tell the difference, being so used to them by now.

"So, how are your mom and sisters?"

"They're doing great, thank you very much."

"Uhmm. Nice." They all sipped their teas. Harry had a amused look in his eyes, as waiting for the battle to start.

It did start when Simon decided it was enough formalities, after chatting awhile about the good spring weather.

"So. Louis. Prince Louis." Of course. Now it was Prince Louis. "We heard some... rumors."

Bring it on. "Oh, really?"

"Yes. I'm going to be straightforward with you." Apparently it was a pun, since they started laughing. Louis and Harry looked confused.

"What is it?"

"We heard that you're trying to approve equal marriage in Monaco."

Louis nearly chocked in his tea. How the fuck did they find out? It was something he had discussed only with close people inside the congress, not making concrete plans about it yet. He just widened his eyes, too shocked to answer it.

"We'd like to change your mind, and put a stop in this madness."

Harry responded for him, sounding wrathful "What?"

The middle age men looked at each other "Prince Harry, no offense, but you have no business with it. I'm sure equal marriage is something that fits the UK, but here in Monaco we took pride in having principles. Traditions."

Louis was just about to cry in frustration, because he couldn't come up with anything to say. Which was rare, but they had took him completely by surprise.

He opened and closed his mouth, trying to think about anything other than "fuck you." But then Harry, not-so-accidentally spilled his whole hot tea in Simon's lap, who screamed in agony.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Cowell. Come on Louis, let's grab a cloth to clean him."

Before Louis could even blink, Harry grabbed his hand and they were running. It had started raining, Louis realized, now that they were outside again. They ran together in the grass, already wet from the rain, and, despise still being shocked, Louis could feel laughter forming in his throat. It tasted a little like freedom.

Harry was actually laughing out loud when they found a golfing car, like the one Louis took a ride in earlier, with that rude guy, which, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen, so they jumped in it and Harry started driving away, into the direction of the exit the club. It wasn't a long ride, but it sounded fun, so they did it.

"I've always wanted to drive one of those things."

"Well, I'm glad you're having fun them."

Harry looked at his direction and laughed some more. "God, I hope the hot tea didn't make any damage to Simon's lap area and stuff."

"I hope it did."

Louis laughed in his own hands. "Oh my God, Harry."

"What? He was a prick. He deserved it. I didn't know they could be such arseholes. God, no golfing is worth it."

Harry almost crashed the car because he wasn't looking forward, where they were going. "Yeah, keep your eyes on the road, Popstar. None of it will be much fun tomorrow if we die."

After a few seconds, Harry asked, with a serious tone this time "Hey, seriously though, are you okay? I see how that might have affected you."

"I'm fine. It wasn't the first time those rats tried to make me do things like that."

"But..."

"Harry, it's fine, really. I don't see them very often. It's like, every three months. It's also a waste of their time, I never did anything they wanted, so it's really just to keep up the appearances."

"Well, either way, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm glad I was stood next to you at that table. If I had to hear shit like that, I'd much rather hear it with you by my side, ready to spill your tea in Simon's lap, than alone by their side."

Harry smiled and parked the car. They had arrived at the front. It was still raining when they ran into Louis' car. They would drop water all over Louis' seats, but, really, it would be worth it.

 

 

Later that night, the Styles' and the Tomlinsons were sat at the table having dinner. After arriving at the Castle still completely wet, trying not to ruin the 300 years furniture, Louis told his mom everything that happened. As a responsible mother, she was mad at him for dropping them and running away as a teenager, but, at the end, said she was proud of him for remaining loyal to his convictions. She also mentioned the articles about him, partying, but Louis asked nicely for them to speak about it tomorrow. He was too exhausted and just wanted a bath, dinner and then lock into his room.

So that was what he did, took a bath and chilled in his room playing video games until it was dinner time. Then 8:00 pm he went downstairs and sat at the table. Harry was passing Lottie the potatoes. That was when Harry's mom noticed his tattoo for the first time, after his sleeve got up, undressing his wrist.

"Harry. What is this?"

She pointed at his tattoo, sounding mad. Not in a rage way, but in a passive aggressive way. Louis almost felt sorry for him.

"Uhm, yeah, uhm, sorry for not telling you sooner, I got a tattoo, yeah, at Zayn's opening that I went two days ago, remember? So, yeah, it's a tattoo."

She raised an eyebrow, but her face remained still otherwise."What does it say, son?"

"I... I can't change."

Anne looked exhausted. She sighed.

"Why?"

Harry looked at Louis, probably looking for help, considering that he had only told him what the tattoo meant. Louis didn't know what to do, so he nodded, trying to appear supportive.

"It means... it means exactly it. I don't know. I thought it was nice. It's stupid. Sorry, mom."

Anne sighed again, not looking mad anymore, just... tired. "Harry, you're a prince. You're not a musician, or something. You have to have a clean, traditional image to the public. It's bad enough all of your scandals! You have to thank us for only keeping it only in the tabloids, making serious papers ignore it. You know there's a lot of things the public can't be aware of, honey. Your tattoo is not helping at all. People might... interpret it."

Harry lowered his head, looking like he might cry. Oh, Jesus, what the fuck.

"Well, I for one think Harry's new tattoo is very nice. It has personality. Young folks will look up at him and be inspired. It's a good thing, you know, change. Since Harry won't be assuming the throne, he might as well be a vial for young people to connect with royalty. And a sick tattoo is a great way of doing it. And let people interpret, give something for them to think and analyze. It's fine."

The table was completely quiet. Jesus, he had just replied to the bloody fucking Queen. And, what was worse, he didn't regret a word of it. All eyes were now on Louis. His mom was staring at him, shocked, her jaw completely dropped. His sisters had a weird look on their faces, a mix of amusement with worry and excitement of what was happening. Gemma was looking at her mom preoccupied, since the Queen seemed to have no words. And then there was Harry. He was no looking up, looking at Louis intensely, in a way that somehow, Louis couldn't explain why, made him blush and more nervous than the Queen's look at him. Jay was the one who broke the silence.

"Agreed. It's a great tattoo, Harry, darling."

After that, they all slowly showed appreciation towards Harry tattoo. Louis inclined his head, smiling at Harry, whose head as down, but had now a huge smile on his face.  
The queen softened her eyes. "Fine. Harry. Just hope you won't regret it."

"I won't, mom." They had a happy rest of the dinner.

 

 

Later that night, Louis had his notebook in his lap, ready to watch something, when he heard a knock in the door.

"Come in."

It was Jay. "Sweetie, there's a cocktail now, the opening of a bride's store. I don't suppose you'd want to come? There's a party in a club later."

Louis looked at him, laid in bed with his pajamas. "Er, no."

"I figured." Jay was at the door, about to leave, when she stopped, and turned around. "Louis? I'm very proud of you, honey. Always will be."

Louis chest warmed, and he smiled. Maybe he had a tear at the corner of his eyes. So what, he thought to himself. 23 wasn't that old. And his mother's words meant more to him than she probably knew.

After a few minutes, there was another knock on the door. It was Harry this time.

"You're not coming to the party, then?"

"No, I'm not, Popstar. You know I generally dislike that kind of thing. That's actually how we first met. I would absolutely prefer an episode of Breaking Bad, a snooze or some corn flakes."

"Well, I know that, but you are the prince. The heir to the throne and everything. You're the one who's always talking about responsibilities and that stuff."

"Well, pardon me, if I think dealing with social economic matters are more important than a stupid party. That's what being a prince is about, for me. I was born rich as fuck, so literally my only job is helping the people of this nation out. But going to parties, and that stuff, doesn't actually do much good to them. So I allow myself a break."

" Fine. Let's do it."

"Do what?"

"Stay in. Watch Breaking Bad."

"What? I didn't invite you. You would probably want to grill some broccoli and skip the violent parts. And why would you want to stay in, anyways? You're the party boy. You should be getting ready in expensive clothes and putting your fake smile just so that you could spend a night partying with people that actually have more money than you have. And that says something considering that you're literally the fucking prince of England."

"I just... I don't feel like going. Can I please stay here? I promise I won't make you skip the violent parts" Harry smiled "I'll just close my eyes."

Louis looked up, thinking about it. Oh, well. Why not.

"Fine. But you have to change clothes. You're not going to have a great experience staying in and watching tv shows while wearing a suit. Change it to sweat pants and an old shirt, like I'm wearing, while I make popcorn and grab hot cocoas."

Louis proceed to do it, trying not to overthink the fact that he had failed miserably at keeping his promise of staying out of Harry's way many times by now.

Trying to balance two mugs and a bucket of popcorn in his tiny hands, he entered his room to find a soft Harry lying in his bed.

"Uhm, what do you think you're doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"In my bed. Who gave you permission? I thought I already designed you my dog's spot for you. It's an honor, really."

Harry looked at him like Louis had lost his mind. "Are you crazy? We agreed to watch the show together."

"Well, you can hear what they're saying perfectly fine in your spot." Harry frowned in confusion. Louis sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Roll over and make yourself small."

He laid in it next to Harry putting the popcorn and the mugs at the table next to him. He grabbed his notebook, pressed play and waited until the episode had loaded and then gave Harry his mug.

They watched the episode in silence, except the sound of Louis' slaps at Harry's hands when he tried to grab more popcorn than Louis' thought he deserved. They ended up watching three episodes in a row, only stopping because they were both yawning loudly, tired with today's events.

Louis was about to dispatch Harry into the corner he had once slept in Louis' floor, when Harry got under the covers, snuggling himself and cuddling the pillow.

"Lou, can I please sleep here? The floor made my back hurt." His big eyes were blinking quickly, and his voice was slower than usual, and he was all... soft, so Louis had no guts to tell him to fuck off. He sighed.

"Fine. Whatever. Don't steal my blanket."

Harry widened his eyes.

"Really?"

"Shut up before I change my mind."

"Okay."

Louis turned the lights off, closed the curtains, turned the computer off and got ready to go to bed. He went back to lay next to Harry, leaving a good amount of space between them.

"Louis?"

"What now?"

"Thanks for defending me against my mother. Few people would do that. In fact, I don't recall anyone, beside you, who would that for me."

Louis thought about, letting the moment sink in.

"Well, thank you for helping me at the golf club."

"Thank you for staying with me until I fell asleep last night."

Right. Louis wasn't sure Harry remembered that, drunk and sleepy as he was.

"Thank you for convincing me to go that show."

"Yeah, thank you for going to the show. And listening to me at the beach."

"Thank you for never outing me to anyone."

"I would never do that."

"I know."

They were quiet, until Harry spoke again. "Your bed is comfy."

"It is, Curly" Louis said, laughing.

Harry was suddenly quiet in the dark, then giggled.

"I like that."

"What?"

"Curly."

Oh. Only now Louis realized. The name had come natural in his lips, like it was the usual form of treatment.

"Uhm, oh, yeah, right." Jesus, he sounded so eloquent as Harry. Look what hanging out with him was doing.

"It's been a long time since you last called me that. I missed it."

"Well, now you're Popstar to me, so, get used to it."

"I like that as well."

"You do realize it's supposed to be offensive, right?"

"I know. I just like nicknames. I like _you_ calling me nicknames."

"Alright, then, _Harry_."

Harry laughed in the dark.

" That's not gonna work. I like you calling my name too."

"Oh, then, I'm not gonna call you anything. Just go to sleep."

They were quiet after that, even though none of them had fallen asleep. After a few minutes, when Louis was practically sleeping, Harry spoke:

"It doesn't make a difference. I think it's about your voice. Or really just about you."

Louis waited until Harry fell asleep, judging by his even breathe, to say:

"Goodnight, Curly."

He turned around to fall asleep too. He had a big smile on his face, and his last thought was how the fuck did it get there without his permission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry for the delay, here it is.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where it gets harder to pretend to hate each other.

The room was still dark, and the bed empty by Louis' side. It was cold too. Looking at the clock, it was 5 am. Nice. Still three hours left to sleep, before he had to attend this football charity match thing he had this morning. He could just turn around, close his eyes, and sleep within a second. The sheets were a mess next to him, the only trace remaining that he hadn't gone to bed alone. Sighing, he got up, wondering where the fuck Harry could have gone this early in the morning.  
  
He got up, the castle silent and asleep, walking on his tiptoes not to wake anybody. Which was unlikely, considering the size of the place, but it was in his best interests to keep quiet.  
  
It took him quite some time to find Harry, considering that he was hidden somewhere in a bloody _castle_. The darkness had almost completely faded by the time he reached the porch and saw him there, strumming a guitar in his lap.  
  
"Are you trying to wake up the sun?"  
  
He strummed his guitar once, dramatically, before answering.  
  
"Well, it's working, isn't it?"  
  
He pointed at the sun, slowly rising in the Monaco sky.  
  
"Yep. That's totally on you."  
  
Another set of dramatic strums.  
  
"So. Harry. Why are you so fond of sleeping in my room? Are you by any chance feeling the peas I've put in your mattress? They're hurting your back and you can't sleep, princess?"  
  
Louis loved that part of being royalty. The fairy tales jokes.  
  
"Shut up," Harry gave him half of a smile. Which was quite offensive, when he stopped to think about it. It was a great joke. Louis should stop wasting great jokes on Harry. He could be out there making people laugh.  
  
"Why are you up so early?"  
  
"Couldn't sleep."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You snore."  
  
"No, I don't."  
  
"You stole my blanket."  
  
"It was on the floor by the time I woke up."  
  
"You tried to cuddle me."  
  
"I have my pillow for cuddles."  
  
"That's sad."  
  
"Says the one who serenades the sun old Beatles songs. And, honestly, 'Here Comes The Sun'? Kind of obvious to the situation."  
  
Harry sighed, giving up. "Just couldn't sleep. It's weird. Being here. Puts a lot on my mind."  
  
"Yeah, well, maybe breakfast helps. Come on, let's eat something."  
  
"You're gonna cook for me?" He raised an eyebrow, suspiciously.  
  
"Oh, don't be silly. You're cooking."  
  
"I figured." Harry got up anyway, leaning the guitar into a vase.  
  
So they went, Louis humming happily the melody of "Here Comes The Sun."  


_Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter  
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here  
_  
  


 

After breakfast, Louis took a shower. He couldn't stop smiling and laughing inside the shower, thinking of a particular bad joke Harry had told him earlier. He nearly chocked on water. Harry was definitely trying to kill him. It explained the nice façade, and the cooking breakfast thing. God, he did put too much bacon in Louis' plate. Just another proof.  
  
Getting dressed to his fottie match, Louis went downstairs, waiting for his bodyguard to arrive so that they could leave to the stadium. Harry was sat at a chair in the kitchen, looking lonely and bored. Oh, what the hell.  
  
"How good are you at football, Popstar?"  
  
His face lit up.  
  
"Not good at all."  
  
Louis nodded, not knowing what to answer.  
  
"Can I still play, please?"  
  
Rolling his eyes, Louis gave him a crooked smile. Typical.  
  
"Come on."  


 

"So, how come you're an United fan if you literally have a club named after the nation you rule?"  
  
"Shut up. I didn't choose which team I was going to root for. Besides, I like Monaco. It's nice. The club, I mean."  
  
"But in a match between United and Monaco, you would choose United?"  
  
"Would you please keep your tone down? We're literally in the middle of their fucking stadium, for God sake. And I'm the bloody prince. But, yeah. I would. Now shut up."  
  
"Yeah, in the middle of the bloody stadium which happens to have your name in."  
  
"Harry, it's Stade Louis II. I'm Louis III. It wasn't named after me."  
  
"I'm just saying, it sounds ungrateful of you to talk about rooting for a goddamn English football team in the position we are right now."  
  
"You were the one who started the conversation! Besides, if I do recall, you were also an United fan."  
  
"Well, yeah, I'm bloody English. I mean, I'm the bloody prince of the UK. I root for English teams."  
  
"Oh my God, would you stop being so annoying? It's not like it's the fucking national team."  
  
"It's the closest you've got here."  
  
Their discussion was interrupted at that moment by a loud whistle next to their ears.  
  
"Oi, the two of you, stop focusing on each other and come join us in the preparation for the game."  
  
Louis sighed. Being a prince really was starting to lost its privileges. He bet people didn't talk like that to Louis II.  
  
The stadium started to get full. It was a charity game. Harry's presence apparently had brought more people to watch it. When they arrived at the stadium, the parking lot was full of reporters waiting for them. The news that Prince Harry was also going to play must have ran around in the news. Well, good.  
  
The other team entered the field. It was also full of celebrities and Monaco rich people. Some cousins of Louis, too. They all greeted politely, and the match started.  
  
Harry had warned him that he was pretty bad. Louis had forgotten how accurate he was. They used to play, just the two of them, all the time, back in the UK. But it was just them with a football ball in the yard, back in the days. Now, in an actual match, with a complete team, it became clear Harry wasn't exaggerating. Louis was trying really hard not to laugh at him, but couldn't do it.  
  
"Stop laughing! I'm starting to feel humiliated." He pointed a finger in Louis direction. Louis grabbed his hand in the air, laughing.  
  
"Starting, yeah?"  
  
Harry blushed, and gave him half of a smile. "Shut up."  
  
"No, no, it's quite funny actually. You're kind of charming when you're not trying to be"  
  
"Who says I'm not not?"  
  
Before Louis could reply, the ball rolled at his direction, dropping Harry's hand. He found himself free, unobstructed to score the goal, which he did, after passing the goalkeeper.  
  
Like a normal football celebration, his team went to hug him, cheering with him. Harry was among them, staring at Louis a bit longer, until they both realized what they were doing, and turned their backs to each other. Louis tried to suppress a smile in his hand.  
  
Despite Louis having scored, their team was losing. Some of the players of Louis' team began mocking Harry, who had his head down.  
  
"Oi. Fuck off. Leave him alone, it's just a bloody charity match, for fuck's sake."  
  
"You were literally just mocking him, right before you scored. What makes you so special?" It was the voice of Tom Parker, millionaire playboy born and raised in Monaco. His parents were in the business of Formula 1. They sometimes had to go to the same event, but they never got along very well, Max looking at him like he should be the prince, not Louis. Besides having lots of money, more than he could ever spent, Max wished to become... famous. So he hang around with celebrities. Harry's stay at Monaco was an opportunity he probably saw to raise his name into the media. Louis saw Tom talking to Harry at show, two nights ago. Harry didn't seem to be interested, so he probably thought teasing him was the way to take some of Harry's fame into his name.  
  
"There's a clear difference."  
  
Tom raised his eyebrow, as if insinuating something.  
  
"Oh, is there?"  
  
Not liking the place where this conversation was leading, Louis grabbed Harry's arm, making a movement as turning them around.  
  
"Go fuck yourself, Parker. Enjoy the press from this, I'm sure you'll like it a lot, your name on the headlines and stuff."  
  
"I'll enjoy the press even more when you come clean."  
  
Louis inside froze. Harry stood still next to him.  
  
"Wha - what is that suppose to mean? I've got nothing to hide."  
  
"Oh, really? Isn't "Narnia" your favorite book?"  
  
Before Louis could reply anything, Harry got out of his hold and pushed Tom away. Tom pushed Harry back, and suddenly they were fighting in the middle of the camp, with the match still going on. Harry tried to punch him, but Tom's friend joined the fight, and Louis decided that it wasn't fair, so he stood in the middle of it. It was a mess, until the judge saw what was happening (it really didn't take long, since half of Louis team was now involved in it) and decided to expel Harry, Louis and Tom. Which, in Louis' mind, wasn't fair at all, but Tom's friends took a step back right before the judge appeared.  
  
The press, as Louis expected, was almost falling into the field, trying to get interviews with them. Parker got what he wanted, after all. Three bodyguards protected Louis and Harry, and led them into their car, deciding, for safety reasons, it was better not to make any stop, but drive them into the castle and wait for everything to calm down until they gave interviews about what happened. Jesus, it was a fucking charity game. He got into a fight in the middle of a charity game. What was going on with Louis these days?  
  
It all got worse when they got out of the stadium and stepped outside. An apparently anarchist manifestation was happening right outside of the game.  
  
Louis almost passed out. "Oh no. Today, of all the days."  
  
Harry was looking confused beside him "Does this happen a lot, here in Monaco?"  
  
"No! It's never happened before. My family is adored around him. Hell, I'm adored around here."  
  
Harry and Louis turned around to the sound of a loudspeaker. A blonde guy stood in a box, raising from the public, shouting the lyrics of Sex Pistol's "Anarchy in the UK", changing the lyrics to "Anarchy in Monaco".  
  
"Is that..." They both furrowed their eyebrows. It seemed to be the rude guy who drove the golf car yesterday.  
  
"That guy was at the club yesterday! He acted really strange, treating me like... like I had done something to him."  
  
Louis nodded. "Yeah, I thought it was just with me. Apparently it's his political positions. Let's just go, please, I'll deal with it later."  
  
They got inside the car and Louis, for the second time in less than 48 hours, felt relieved and safe to be in the backseat of his car, with Harry by his side and his problems getting smaller as the bodyguard drove them away.  
  
Harry turned around to look at Louis. "Are you okay?"  
  
Louis sighed. "Yeah... I'm just... I don't know. Tom Parker is a prick. He's just that."  
  
"How did he know, anyway?"  
  
Louis tilted his head. "I'm not sure. Maybe some of the guys that I've been with exposed me. Or, I don't know, maybe he just knew. Like Greg James at the show. I'm just tired. If it had happened like, a couple of months ago, I would be freaking out, trying to, I don't know, make some damage control. Now I just... am exhausted. I can't bring myself to care."  
  
"Wait, what about Greg James?"  
  
"Uh?"  
  
"You said "like Greg James knew". What do you mean?"  
  
"Oh, at the show he asked for my number, and kind of figured out my sexuality, I guess. After my reaction, I suppose."  
  
Harry nodded, and raised an eyebrow. "So?"  
  
"So...?"  
  
"You gave him your number?"  
  
"I lost him in the crowd."  
  
"Oh.  
  
Harry turned his head, looking at the passing street. He spoke again after a few minutes.  
  
"You would've given it, had you not lost him?"  
  
Louis considered for a few seconds. "Yeah. Probably."  
  
Harry nodded, and turned his head back to the window.  
  
"You know, you didn't have to defend me. My sexuality is not an offense, so, it really wasn't necessary."  
  
Harry looked at Louis like he had gone crazy, and had a very offended look on his face.  
  
"I obviously know what. I fought him because he has no right in outing you. It's your fucking sexuality, for God's sake. That's why I defended you."  
  
Louis smiled. "Oh. Well, thank you, I guess, in that case."  
  
"Yeah. I can't believe you thought that was why I did it. God."  
  
"Ugh, sorry. It's just been a bad day. And it's still eleven o'clock. You know what? We should've never left my bed. Lets never leave my bed again."  
  
Harry turned his head abruptly at him, and Louis blushed.  
  
"You know what I mean." It was his turn to look at the window, hiding a flushed smile.  
  
  


 

After they arrived at the palace and had lunch, Louis went to his room to take a nap. He felt like he deserved. He must felt tired. He should be feeling tired. He woke up at 5 am, after all, and they played a football match and all the stress after it. So it made no sense that he was staring at the ceiling, incapable of just closing his eyes and sleeping. Too much thoughts in his heads, recent thoughts and also... old, very much hidden in his brain thoughts. He knew that, if he fell asleep, he would dream of it. Of those moments. To a particular moment, actually, when Louis and Harry were just 19 and 17. It had once meant a lot to him, so, naturally, after everything, he repressed the memories of it. But he couldn't control his subconscious, who was now falling asleep, already forming images in Louis head, despite his will.

 

 

_One of the many privileges of being a prince, as Louis was, was the traveling part. Official visits or not, he managed to get to know some pretty amazing places all around the world. But, sometimes, he had to visit some places where he'd really rather be at his room. Which was how Louis found himself inside a pretty scary abandoned castle in the middle of Belgium. It was quite bizarre, if he was being honest. The Noisy Chateau, or Miranda Castle. It was built in 1866 to be the summer house of the Count of Liedekerke-Beaufort and his family. In the second World War, the Nazi soldiers occupied it. After the end of the War, the history of the Castle became blurry, but many believe it to have become an orphanage, until it was completed abandoned in 1991. So, yeah, it had history. The architecture of it didn't help the weird feeling Louis had inside it, being a neo-Gothic construction. It was all frightfully symmetrical, filled with warheads arches, minimum structures, needles and capitals. Since it was completely abandoned, it was all dark and dusty, spider webs taller that he was, and everything it was falling apart. Logs were nearly falling from the ceiling, and he was pretty sure there was something dead in the corner of the music room. Some windows were open, letting the light shine into the room, which he now supposed it was the dinning room, but it was getting dark quickly and, somehow, Louis thought things would get even more bizarre if he wondered around with just a candle in his hand. So he was now trying to find a way out, regretting his decision of leaving his family, who was now having a cocktail at the garden, to "explore around". So, praying he could find a way out, Louis entered a dark and windowless corridor with his heard throbbing in his chest and his candle burning. It illuminated the walls enough for him to see paintings of faces that were dead long before he even existed. Moments that existed a long time ago in history, filled with joy and maybe sadness and anger and all its importance. Right now they were just a reminder to Louis that he was at a place filled with memory and ghosts of the past. And that was when he heard a whisper beside him, nearly killing him at the spot.  
  
"This madness has come on us for our sins."  
  
"Fuck!"  
  
In the middle of trying to stay alive, Louis dropped his candle at the floor, leaving him with absolute no light.  
  
"Lou! Lou, calm down. It's me. It's Harry. Sorry." Harry was laughing and, despite the total darkness, Louis could picture clearly the look at his face.  
  
"Harry. Fuck! Your nearly killed me. I'm not sure about the nearly part, actually. My heart might still die. God, you scared me! This isn't funny. You can't just go around quoting 'Idylls of the King' in an abandoned castle." Louis pushed him back, but Harry gripped tight at his arm, since they were in complete darkness, it was actually kind of a reckless move of Louis' part. He might fall at something. Or... somebody.  
  
"Sorry. Here. Grab my hand. Lets explore the castle together."  
  
Louis looked at where Harry's hand probably were. "Er, I was actually thinking of getting the hell out of here."  
  
Harry spoke in his "quoting voice" again "You can checkout any time you like, but you can never leave."  
  
"Lord Tennyson again, uh?"  
  
"No. Hotel California, by the Eagles. Grab my hand. There's a lot of beauty in this castle. I'll show them to you." Probably sensing Louis' hesitation, he smiled in the dark. Louis' eyes were just now accustoming themselves to the darkness, so he could see part of Harry's traces. "Don't be afraid. Nothing bad will happen to you by my side. The ghosts around here love me."  
  
Louis shrugged, and grabbed Harry's hand. Clearing his throat, he spoke "So. Is this the royalty version of an emo phase? Wander around abandoned castles in the dark, quoting goth poetry instead of listening to Evanescence and painting your nails black? Last time we saw each other you were still at your hipster phase."  
  
"Hey, it's not a phase - anyway, that's not the point. No, I didn't become a emo since last we spoke, thank you very much. My candle, as did yours, went out, and I thought it was an adequate quote for the moment. Again, I'm sorry for nearly killing you, but you had to admit it was a dramatic entry. You're one to talk, by the way. You were wandering around even before I was, since that, when my family arrived, yours was already at the garden, drinking tea. I only came inside to look for you, actually."  
  
"Oh, really? And why's that, Curly?"  
  
"Why, to save you, of course."  
  
"Save me? I happened to be perfect okay till I saw you, thank you very much."  
  
Something cracked above their heads, so they started walking faster, reaching for some light.  
  
"Really? From what I could tell, you seemed pretty lost back there."  
  
"Was not! Just trying to get out. I might have been a little confused as where was the easier way out, but things were working perfectly fine, I'll let you know. I was about to get out and drink tea with my family. Now I'm following you into whatever scary room this palace has to offer. So, you see, my future seemed brighter and more certain a few minutes ago."  
  
Harry smiled in the dark again.  
  
"What?" He was bothered by Harry's smile. It made him want to smile too, and he couldn't even see it properly, so he felt stupid.  
  
"I missed you."  
  
For once, he was glad by the darkness, so Harry wouldn't see him blushing. Okay, now he really felt stupid. "Missed you too."  
  
They finally reached light, as they walked into a library. It had a big window, so the sun was enough to shine some light in them. Still, they kept their fingers intertwined. Louis turned around, having a good look at the other prince's face for the first time in months.  
  
"Hi, Lou."  
  
Louis then let go of his hand, only to hug him tight.  
  
"God, it's been ages, H. You're seventeen now! I can't believe I missed your birthday. I felt awful, but I couldn't get away from my obligations."  
  
He felt Harry's smile through his shoulders.  
  
"Stop it, I know that, we spoke in the phone for hours that day. I told you, there was no party, it was honestly just a regular day. And, hey, you're nineteen now. I missed your birthday too."  
  
Louis' face fell.  
  
"I know! What a boring day to be born, honestly. I feel like I can never throw a party, cause people will be too busy celebrating Christmas with their families. Can you believe how thoughtless Jesus was, being born one day after I was? Go steal someone else's thunder. The 24th is all about me. Stupid Christmas Eve."  
  
They end the embrace, turning around to inspect the room. It was pretty amazing, now they had stopped to analyze it. Dozens of bookshelves displayed next to each other, until the high ceiling, extremely dusty and looking like they haven't been touched for years. There were armchairs too, made of leather, looking all royal and old. The tapestry looked like something of an old movie, with prints that told stories. Despite the dust, the room looked pretty much preserved.  
  
"Wow. I feel like I'm in the middle of a game. Like we're playing detective, only like, role playing it."  
  
Harry grabbed Louis' hand again and laughed, its vibrations passing through their joined hands. "That's a nice idea"  
  
"Um, no. We're never coming back here."  
  
"Speak for yourself!"  
  
"I'm never letting you come back here! Knowing you, you could trip and fall and like, die. I don't want you dying around."  
  
"Well then, you saved me too when I found you."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
They smiled at each other, then went to explore the shelves. They didn't dare to actually touch at any book, too afraid of what would come out of the shelf behind the book. So they just looked at some classic names of the literature.  
  
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"  
  
"Yes. We should get a copy of all Harry Potter's to this library, adding it to the others literature classics."  
  
"No! - I mean, that too, but look at all those wasted books! So many stories in them, that will never be read. It's sad."  
  
"These are not the only copies of those books in the world, you know that."  
  
"I know, it's just... such a waste. This whole castle, actually."  
  
"Yeah, well, we're only allowed inside it due to our noble titles and shit. It's not like anyone but the family to which it belongs could do something about it."  
  
Harry let out a frustrated sigh. "I know. It's just. All that beauty inside it just fading away. It's hard to watch."  
  
"Poetic."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, and reached for Louis' hand. "Come on. There's plenty of room we've yet to explore."  
  
They passed through locked doors, curious about what was hidden inside them, but secretly relieved that they wouldn't go inside them. The castle contained too many ghosts, metaphorical ones or not.  
  
They finally found a room with an open door, which Harry thought it to be an invitation. What they found inside impressed them both. The rest of the castle was falling to pieces, full of rats and dark corners. This room, though, seemed intact. It had, obviously, old furniture and it all seemed fragile, but it was rather clean, without the layers of dust that covered every corner of the palace. It was quite illuminated too, with an open window that let the sunset in, painting the purple walls a vivid tone. There was an immense bed in the middle of the room, made with classic silk sheets. They started exploring the room. There was a dressing table which still had a comb. The mirror was relatively well polished, and the paintings on the wall seemed well restored. It was a little scary, if Louis was being honest.  
  
"Wow."  
  
"I know."  
  
Harry took a step further, analyzing the room.  
  
"Okay, this is creeping me out."  
  
Louis laughed. "I know, thank you! Why is it so clean? It isn't supposed to be so clean. It's supposed to be falling apart with dead animal bodies around and dust everywhere. It's a bloody abandoned castle, for Christ sake."  
  
Harry stumbled on the ground, in a loose wood board.  
  
"There's something underneath it, help me pick it up."  
  
Turned out it was the hiding place of a wooden box.  
  
They looked at each other. "You think we should, like, open it?"  
  
"Well, I'm curious, aren't you?"  
  
"Yeah, but, this is technically a private castle, abandoned or not. Isn't it like... wrong?"  
  
"Oh, come on, Harry. It's not like we're gonna do something about it."  
  
"Well, if it contains illegal stuff, like, I don't know, the location of dead bodies, we have to."  
  
"Harry, if it contains the location of dead bodies we'll be doing a great favor of opening it. Come on."  
  
He considered it, and then proceed to open it. It was jammed at first, seeming like it hadn't been opened for decades. Which was probably true. After they managed to open it, it was filled with old letters.  
  
"Alright, then. The theory of dead bodies still going strong."  
  
Harry smiled. "It seem like love letters, of some kind."  
  
"Love letters? Why would they be hidden under the ground?"  
  
"Maybe it was some kind of secret love."  
  
They stared at the letters, before deciding jumping into the bed and began trying to decipher them.  
  
After a few minutes, they had understood some of it, the parts where the time hadn't began to fade the ink away.  
  
"So, from what I could gather, those are letters from the guy who the girl who used to live in this room was in love."  
  
"Uhm, heterosexual love, not so much of a forbidden love after all, then."  
  
Harry frowned, and looked at him in confusion. "Right. She was probably a noble and he was a peasant, and their love would never be accepted by her family, which probably expected her to marry a duke of somewhere. Which is a situation we're very familiarized with. They exchanged letters once a week, apparently, with love declarations and plans to see each other face to face. Her letters must be somewhere in the place where the peasants house was located. Or they're gone."  
  
Louis raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean very familiarized? We can marry whoever the fuck we want."  
  
Harry looked surprise, and sad. "Well, maybe you can, but I can't. I'll probably end up marrying some distant cousin, or something like that." He gave him an ironic smile. "My life is pretty much decided by 19. Actually, it has been decided since I was like, three years old. So, yeah. Just have to get used to the idea."  
  
Louis didn't know what to say. He was pretty much free to marry who he wanted to, his title never interfered much in this aspect, at least in his head. If he wanted to marry an Hollywood actress he could. Grace Kelly was the proof of that. Well, wanting to marry an _actor_ was a whole different story, but he didn't like to think about that. "Hey, if in your wedding day you don't feel like getting married, you can always escape to Monaco and hid there. You can live under my bed and no one will ever know."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind." Harry looked away, hiding his face, and changed the subject. "Anyway, what do you think we should do with those letters? They are falling apart, it's a shame."  
  
"What, are you suggesting we give them to some museum, or whatever? Or show them to our mothers and let them decide what do to?"  
  
"What do you suggest, then?"  
  
"That we leave it like that. Look around, Harry. This room isn't abandoned, unlike the rest of the castle. It's cleaner than my room, for God's sake."  
  
"It's not like it's that hard."  
  
Louis rolled his eyes. "You're missing my point."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"Harry, obviously someone comes here every now and then and keep the room tied."  
  
He looked around, as if the thought had only now passed his head.  
  
"You think... you think the person who those letters were addressed to is still alive?"  
  
"Maybe. We don't know the exact dates they were written."  
  
"But... but if it is, indeed, the guy, and he's the one who comes here often, cleaning the place, this is so..."  
  
Harry was got excited, probably thinking he was in a Jane Austen novel.  
  
"Or there's a curse surrounding the bedroom. Either way, we should leave it as it is."  
  
He ignored Louis.  
  
"This is so tragic! I mean, she's the girl who comes from a rich family, destined to marry some man she doesn't love, falls in love with another guy! He has no money, hasn't got much of anything to offer her in material terms, but has a true heart and a burning love for her! They're young, they're naive, they think they can go against her family and live happily ever after. But they didn't count on one thing."  
  
Harry paused, looking at Louis expecting something. Right. The dramatics.  
  
"What thing, Harry..."  
  
"Her health!"  
  
"Her health?"  
  
"Her health. Few days later the day they were planning on running away, after realizing her family would never give up, she's suddenly sick."  
  
He was now gesturing around with widen eyes, as if he were narrating a play.  
  
"Unfortunately, she did not make it. Her secret boyfriend went away, traveled for years, trying to forget her, but could never. So he came back home, with the castle empty already, and decided that, to honor her memory, he would keep this room as it was when she was alive and breathing."  
  
Harry finished his story and looked at Louis as if expecting him to applause him or something.  
  
"Not to be rude, but... but don't you think that was a bit dramatic?"  
  
"Dramatic?"  
  
"Yes, I mean, the whole getting sick part..."  
  
Harry clasped his fingers, as if he had a epiphany.  
  
"You're right! She didn't die of sickness."  
  
"Oh, fucking finally!"  
  
"There was another man, Louis! The man she was supposed to marry. Turns out she didn't love him, but he was deeply in love with her. Crazy, absurd, love. So, when she ran away from him on their wedding day, he decided that, if he couldn't have her, then..."  
  
"Alright, alright, gonna stop you right there, this place is getting into your head and I'm kind of scared of you, if I'm being honest. Come on, let's leave the castle."  
  
Louis guided Harry and together they left the room, after putting the box with the letters back where it belong. Some mysteries just aren't meant to be resolved.  
  
"I want something like that."  
  
They had finally found their way out of the creepy castle. Louis raised an eyebrow.  
  
"A tragedy?"  
  
"Love."  
  
"Without the dying part, I hope?"  
  
Harry smiled, as they walked into the garden and their families.  
  
"Just want something... eternal. Something that, I don't know, outlasts me."  
  
"That's a bit creepy."  
  
"You find everything to be creepy."  
  
"But this is creepier."  
  
"Fine. I just want to, I don't know, experience it, you know? This kind of love. That makes everything seems dull and poetry to be easy."  
  
Louis smiled. "Don't worry. I'm sure one day you will."  
  
  
  
_

 

It had started raining at approximately 6 pm. It was a slow, beautiful drizzle, that cleaned the view and the air. Louis was sat at the same porch he watched the rising sun with Harry this morning, with a book in his lap, failing to concentrate in it. He decided to distract himself, after having heavy dreams, which he did not want to think about it. It was bad enough to dream about it. He tried to keep his memories shut, but the book wasn't much help. He then had an idea, and grabbed his football ball under his bed, and knocked at Harry's door. The guest room door, actually. Uhm. Right. He needed to correct himself before he actually said "Harry's room" out loud.  
  
Harry opened the door sounding sleepy, with messy hair. He had probably just woken up, but didn't seem mad or displeased at Louis sight. So, it was a good sign.  
  
"Popstar."  
  
"Grace Kelly."  
  
Harry rubbed his eyes in a way that Louis didn't find adorable. At all. Not the least.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Hello."  
  
They stood at the entryway, staring at each other, until Harry broke the silence.  
  
"So, uh, Louis?"  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"What do you mean what do I want? You were the one who woke me up and now is standing at my door with a football ball in under your arms."  
  
"It's not your door."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You said "my door" like it's your room. This is the guest room. Of my house. Don't make yourself at home."  
  
Harry looked embarrassed for a second, and Louis thought, for a second, of telling him that he also had trouble in not calling the guest room "Harry's room". But then he thought that he didn't have the same problem with the room Anne or Gemma were staying, and kept the thought for himself.  
  
"Sorry, I guess? Still, you haven't said why you're here. At the _guests_ room."  
  
"Right. I don't know, I just thought the weather was appropriate for me to teach you some football. I guess you need some, after today's game. You know, not to embarrass yourself in the future."  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow, still sounding confused and sleepy.  
  
"What do you mean appropriate weather? It's raining."  
  
"It's drizzling. Don't be such a drama queen."  
  
"I'm pretty sure I've just heard a thunder."  
  
Louis rolled his eyes.  
  
"Come on, Popstar. I'm giving you a free lesson. Millions would pay for this, you know."  
  
"Millions. Obviously."  
  
"Yes, millions. Now go, change your clothes."  
  
"I think I'm just fine like this, thank you."  
  
"Er, I'm not gonna coach you in skinny jeans and a fancy shirt. Put some sweatpants and a regular t shirt, like the ones I'm wearing, and we're good to go. A jumper too, maybe, it can be cold in the garden."  
  
"I'm comfortable like this."  
  
Louis sighed. "Just do it, or else it's gonna stop raining and then it will be no fun."  
  
Harry shrugged, giving up, and went to the dresser to pick a change of clothes. He started removing his trousers right away, in front of Louis, who blushed and turned away.  
  
"Oi! What are you doing?"  
  
"What do you mean what I'm doing? You were insisting that I had to change my clothes."  
  
"Not in front of me, you idiot."  
  
He could almost picture the confused frown in Harry's face.  
  
"You've seen me only with my pants on a hundred times. What's the difference."  
  
Louis rolled his eyes. Fine, maybe he had a point. He wasn't about to say it so. He turned back, and Harry was ready with sweatpants and an old rock band t shirt, looking oddly comfy.  
  
"Just forget it. Come on, Popstar. You're getting shittier at football by the minute. You're lucky I'm about to save you."  
  
Harry smiled. "Guess I am."  
  
It had, indeed, started raining harder. The garden was soaked and it was starting to get dark, but Louis, stubbornly, wasn't about to give up. Harry looked suspiciously at him.  
  
"You're sure you wanna do this now?"  
  
Louis walked into the garden, the rain falling in his face. "It's just a little water. Come on, you have lots to learn. Don't you love a challenge?"  
  
Carefully, Harry set his foots on the grass. "Okay, just, uhm... Don't be too harsh on me."  
  
Louis smirked. "I would never."  
  
They were quickly soaked, the rain increasing by the minute. It didn't stop neither of them. Louis was determined to coach Harry properly, which proved to be quite a challenge. They tried to play for about half an hour. After losing three balls to the woods behind the castle, Louis exploded.  
  
"No! You have to quick the ball with the side of your feet, otherwise it will not end up where you plan it to."  
  
"You said you would be nice! Nice doesn't include yelling!"  
  
"Well, I'm trying, but you're not doing your part!"  
  
"You're a terrible teacher!"  
  
"Maybe you're just a terrible student."  
  
They stood threateningly in front of each other, with only a few inches of space between them. The dramatics of the situation was helped by a thunder collapsing in the sky. It quickly became a storm.  
  
They laughed.  
  
"Okay, maybe it was not such a good idea trying to teach you in the pouring rain."  
  
"And maybe I was having trouble concentrating."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"Don't know. Just lots on my mind."  
  
Louis sat down on the grass, not worrying about the dirt and the rain that already poured in them. He passed his hand through his face.  
  
"Yeah. I can relate."  
  
It was almost completely dark by then. The lights were off and the rain muffled all the noises.  
  
"Oh man, times are hard."  
  
Harry sat by his side, also seemingly undisturbed by the soaked grass.  
  
"How's so?"  
  
Louis looked up at the sky, laughing. "I literally cannot tell you. You know that."  
  
"Oh, so it's government related stuff."  
  
"It's just... sometimes I wished we could just forget about all that principality stuff and install democracy, then I could be a... I don't know, owner of a restaurant."  
  
"You don't cook. Nor have the power to do that."  
  
"I know. Shut up."  
  
Harry waited a bit and then said "You can tell me stuff, you know. It's not like I'm going to run and tell my mom so that we write down on a list weak spots of Monaco and how to master it."  
  
Louis laid on his back, closing his eyes because of the raindrops.  
  
"Maybe you should."  
  
Harry laughed, looking at him.  
  
"Yeah. Maybe I should. Not my style, though."  
  
"Really? What's your style, then, Harry Styles?"  
  
"Rebel prince, uncaring about rules or life in general. Only cares about himself. Eternal teenager. Has lots of money but 0 responsibilities since, despite being royalty, will most likely never assume the throne."  
  
Louis opened his eyes.  
  
"Do you believe in that?"  
  
"It's just who I am. There's nothing to _believe_."  
  
"Then why you explained it in third person?"  
  
Harry looked him in the eyes.  
  
"Do _you_ believe in that?"  
  
Louis didn't missed a heartbeat.  
  
"No."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Good," he repeated it.  
  
Harry laid by his side, as they watched the rain and nightfall.  
  
"You used to love the rain. Most people immediately went inside when it started raining, you used to jump outside and enjoy it."  
  
"Still love it."  
  
"I can see that."  
  
"It's comfy."  
  
Harry giggled. They stood there, unconcerned about catching a cold or being hit by a lightning.

 

 

Louis woke up to his cellphone vibrating by his side. 11 am. He had overslept, probably due to the lack of sleep during the night. He picked his phone, and saw dozen of new messages and unanswered calls. God, it was Sunday. He was expecting a break.  
  
One of the messages was from Zayn. They had exchanged numbers at the show, and had been texting from time to time.  
  
_**hii sorry for the hour but im throwing a party today at my apartment i expect you there! you can bring someone if you want  
  
oh i forgot to text the address  
  
which i'll be texting at the next message **_  
  
Louis was considering his options (which were limited, if he was being honest) when his phone rang. It was an unknown number, which made him curious. Few people had this number.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Louis?"  
  
He didn't recognize the voice.  
  
"Er, yes?"  
  
"Hi!"  
  
"Uhm."  
  
"Oh, sorry. You don't recognize me. It's Greg. You know, from the show."  
  
"Oh. Oh! Right. Hi Greg. I'm, uh... I'm really bad at recognizing voices."  
  
"It's okay, sorry for calling you at a Sunday morning."  
  
"It's fine, I had already woken up." But had not got out of bed yet, which he left out.  
  
"Right, then, I'm sure you're aware of this party your friend Zayn is throwing tonight?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Greg seemed nervous.  
  
"That's how I got your number, by the way. Asking for Zayn. If you were wondering." He was. "Well, anyway, I was hoping we could go together? Like, a date, if you want. Or just friends, if you're more comfortable this way."  
  
There was silence in Louis' side of line.  
  
"Uhm, hello, Louis?"  
  
"Hi, sorry. Er, I don't know if you recall, but I'm in the closet, I mean, it would be... not wise. Of my part."  
  
"Come on, it's a private party, at your friends apartment. We'll just hang together. No one will notice."  
  
He thought about it, knowing he would regret saying no later.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Really? As a date, then?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. Just... don't pick me up or anything, we'll meet there."  
  
"Fine by me. See you then, Louis."  
  
Louis hang up, staring at the ceiling, thinking that he hadn't even put a feet on the ground and already was invited to a party and had a date. Not too bad of a start of a day.

 

 

"Things are falling apart."  
  
Lunch was nearly done by the time he went downstairs. The house was nearly empty, so Louis' mother ought it to be a good opportunity to talk to him.  
  
"So, we're having a party."  
  
Uhm. What.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me. A ball. A big, classic ball. We're gonna feel as we are in a fairy tale."  
  
"Mom. We've been partying non stoppable for the past week. It's time we get a hold of the situation. Things are getting out of control. Yesterday I got a call from the Parliament and they got a complain from the workers' union of Formula 1 and..."  
  
"That's exactly why we're throwing a party! Things are getting out of our control and this absolutely can't happen right now, you know damn well that this visit has its purpose. We have to maintain the appearances, which will certainly be helped by throwing a fancy party. Besides, it's going to be one of those donations party. We're gonna collect money and give to a charity. For that we're gonna need some famous guests, but I'm on it."  
  
"Looks like you already thought of everything."  
  
"I always do, sweetie. Just roll along."  
  
"Fine. When?"  
  
"Tomorrow."  
  
Louis wished he drinking something, so that he could spill it and gag in it, just to emphasize his shock.  
  
"What? Excuse me, but there's no way you can pull everything together by tomorrow's evening."  
  
"Already on it. It's fine, don't worry. I've been thinking about it for a while. Wanted it to be at the end of their stay, but, you know. Necessities."  
  
"What do you want me do to, then?"  
  
"As for today, nothing. Go on and do whatever you had planned for the day. I already have help. But tomorrow I'll wake you up very early and instruct you in your duties. Just letting you know. Oh, and invite who you want. I want this place to be crowded."  
  
Alright, then. They were throwing a party. Tomorrow.  
  
"Just wondering how you're gonna organize everything and food and decoration and..."  
  
Jay kissed his forehead. "Oh, honey, haven't you heard? We're royalty. We can have anything we want at any time. The world is own our hands, Louis."  
  
He could kind of see where the protests against the realm were coming from. Kind of.

 

 

Louis was sat at the living room with Gemma by his side. They were watching the advertising channel. It was pretty interesting, actually. Some guy with a terrible red shirt was talking about how better everyone's life would be if they acquired some random grill. Maybe it would, in a perfect family. In a family that actually had the structure to just sit around in the garden making hamburgers and doing regular normal families things, like criticizing the government. Unfortunately, for Louis at that moment, he was the government, and the barbecue luxury wasn't among his privileges.  
  
"Doesn't it drive you crazy, how right he is?"  
  
Gemma looked at Louis in a strange manner. She raised her eyebrow. It seemed like a family thing to do while speaking to Louis.  
  
"What, that weird guy with the tomato shirt?"  
  
"Yeah, but. He's right. I can't picture anything happier than just buying that stupid grill and cooking for my family like it's my only concern in the world."  
  
"Don't let capitalism get the best of you, Louis."  
  
It was now his time of looking at Gemma like she was from another world.  
  
"You are literally one day gonna be the queen of the country that basically created capitalism as it is. Literally."  
  
"Yeah, well, it also basically created punk rock as it is. So."  
  
"Oh, don't get me started on punk rock and the anarchism thing. It's the reason why I'm anxious and nervous today. Let's go back to the grill."  
  
"Is it?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The reason you are so bitter today. Thought it might be related to something else. Someone else."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Nothing. It's just that I noticed that you and my brother have been spending quite a lot of time together. Thought it might be letting you anxious and nervous since, you know. You two didn't part ways in amicable terms. So I guess that the reconciliation that's been happening in the past few days might have affected you too."  
  
"You are quite the observer, aren't you?"  
  
Gemma laughed. "I don't think you two are that discrete for someone who notices it to be considered an observer."  
  
"Right."  
  
The commercial turned into another one, about a modern blender, and Louis was about to say how _happy_ he would be if he had the time to use a blender when Gemma spoke again.  
  
"So... has it affected you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The reconciliation."  
  
"I hardly call it a reconciliation. Still hate him. Pretty sure it's mutual."  
  
Gemma rolled her eyes. Again, another common reaction of the Styles towards Louis. "Do you hate him less?"  
  
Louis thought about it. "I don't know. I guess."  
  
"What changed, then?"  
  
"Jesus, I don't know, Gemma. He's less of a twat."  
  
Gemma smiled. "He'll be happy to hear it."  
  
Louis widened his eyes. "Oh, no, he won't. You won't say a word."  
  
"Why not? I meant it, he will be happy."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"You two are so weird. And he doesn't, by the way. Hate you, I mean."  
  
Louis sounded unimpressed. "Really? How would you know?"  
  
"I'm his sister for the past 21 years. Guess I know some a thing or two about Harry. And hating you really isn't among these things."  
  
"Uhm, I'm sorry, but, the past few years have proven the contrary."  
  
"Don't be so dramatic. You two are not out of a soap opera." Then she lowered her voice. "Despite of what you two might want it to look like."  
  
  


Just as he was finishing getting dressed, Louis heard a loud engine noise outside. He opened his window, which faced the front of the castle and was surprised by a Harry on top of a big motorcycle.  
  
"What the fuck?" He screamed, louder than the noise.  
  
"Liked it?" Harry's face was torn in a smug smile.  
  
"What are you doing? Where did you get this thing?"  
  
"This thing, Louis, is my new baby. I got it in a store downtown. You see, being a prince has its privileges. Such as buying a vehicle outside your own country."  
  
"Do you even have a license?"  
  
Harry look offended. It was a perfect reasonable question, in Louis' mind.  
  
"Of course I have a licence. Have you never seen pictures of me on top of a motorcycle? They're everywhere, the paps love it."  
  
"Uh-uhm. I'm sure your mother does too. It really helps your nice prince image."  
  
"Well, yeah, she's not to keen about it. But, you know, sacrifices must be made." Harry then began to describe the motor and the power of the motorcycle, so, Louis, not listening at all, went into the emergence stairs, all filled with flowers and pretty plants to disguise it, went down and stood next to Harry, startling him.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"You, Danny Zuko, are going to give me a lift to Zayn's party."  
  
"I am? I wasn't even planning on going."  
  
"Well, I'm not inviting you."  
  
"Hey, I was already invited."  
  
"Well, then. We're going."  
  
Harry looked unsure for a moment, but then gave up, giving Louis another helmet.  
  
"Fine. Hold on to me."  
  
Louis hesitated. Right, he had forgotten about this part. He put on his helmet and, hesitantly, put his arm around Harry, making sure it didn't feel too weird for both of them. It did, a little.  
  
Harry cleared his throat.  
  
"Right. Off we go then, Sandy."  
  


 

The party was at Zayn's rooftop. He had an apartment in a building right in front of the beach, which was quite big, even for Louis' standards, whom had grown up in a literal castle. The sun was just now going down, leaving a nice atmosphere for the party. There was a swimming pool in the middle of the apartment. People were all over the room, seeming pretty drunk already.  
  
Louis turned back to Harry's side."Right. Thanks for the ride, Popstar."  
  
"What? I'm staying now."  
  
Louis was about to say something about how he had not dressed for the party, when he looked at his clothes. He had probably dressed just to buy his motorcycle, looking really fit into a leather jacket and his best white trousers.  
  
"See you around, then."  
  
Louis walked to the bar, looking around, looking for Greg.  
  
He found Liam instead. He was in a corner talking really fast and low at the phone. Louis meant to turn around to not bother him, but he immediately shut the phone down and put a smile on his face, seeming everything but genuine.  
  
"Hello, Louis. How can I help you?"  
  
Louis was confused. He was nothing like the Liam he had met at the restaurant, all nervous, awkward and shy.  
  
"Ehm, nothing, sorry for interrupting you, it wasn't my intention. I didn't mean for you to end your call because of me."  
  
Liam looked around, nervous, as if he didn't realize Louis knew he was in his cellphone.  
  
"What? You heard me?"  
  
"Er, I saw you? I wasn't snooping around, if that's what you're afraid."  
  
Just like that, Liam began to act all nervous and shy again.  
  
"Oh. Oh! Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to... er... I didn't mean to be rude. I was talking to... I was talking to my cousin. Yes, she's very sick, I'm afraid."  
  
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. What does she have?"  
  
Harry's bored face appeared by their sides at this moment.  
  
"Who's sick? Sorry for interrupting, I was talking to the duchess of some country but she had a very strong opinion on my hair. Seemed to find it outrageous for the prince of England to have long hair. Wanted for us to go into the bathroom to find a scissor and cut it right there. She swore she had practice."  
  
Louis was suddenly filled with rage and, per usual, discounted it in Harry. "Don't cut your hair!"  
  
Harry looked at him like he had spoken German (which Louis was perfectly capable of speaking, thank you very much, it did come in hand in some diplomatic situations) or grown a third leg. He spoke slowly, as if for Louis to understand. "I won't. I'm the one who has it, remember? The hair, I mean. It's mine. I would've cut it already if I wanted to."  
  
"Sorry, it's just... It's a nice hair." Blushing, he turned to Liam again. "So, what's up with your cousin?" Which he realized it might sound a little bit insensitive, but he was dying to change the subject back to him.  
  
Liam looked away, as if wanting to be somewhere else. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Your cousin, you said she's very sick?"  
  
"Yes, right, sorry. She has... She's pregnant. Very pregnant. Extremely pregnant."  
  
"Well, congratulations in that case, I guess? Not so much of a sickness, mate."  
  
Harry's face lit up. "Oh, that's great Liam" He shook Liam's hand in a very fatherly way, which, _weird_. "How far is she? Is it a boy or a girl? Has she decided a name yet? How's the support?" Harry's mouth made a perfect "O" "Oh, sorry, is she okay? Oh, God, Liam, does she need help?"  
  
Just when Harry was about to probably adopt the child, Liam interrupted him with a nervous laugh. "No, no, she's fine, yeah, just fine... They don't know the sex yet, no, or the name, so..."  
  
Liam was pliant red. Louis wondered if they had done something wrong. Probably Harry. Yeah, he decided to blame Harry and his obsession with babies that Louis had forgotten after all these years. The awkward moment was interrupted by Zayn, who came to talk to them, putting an arm around Liam's waist. They seemed pretty... familiarized with each other. It may be something that happens when two people... click. Who knows.  
  
They began making out in front of Louis, which, of course. They have known the two of them for few days but they apparently already were in that intimacy level.  
  
Harry and Louis stared awkwardly at the walls, scratching the back of their heads, not knowing what to do. Thankfully timing seemed to be at Louis' side that night, so he spotted Greg across the room, probably looking for him.  
  
"Right, so, see you around Popstar." He began walking towards Greg, feeling very self-conscious.  
  
"Louis, hi. Here, I grabbed you a drink." He already had a beer in hand, but put it away, grabbing the martini Greg had offered.  
  
"So. Hi." He smiled, trying to think of things to say. His brain was blank, though.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Hi. Sorry. I've already said that."  
  
"You did."  
  
"Uhm." Louis took a sip at the martini. Maybe it would help. He didn't do dates. He wasn't nervous during the day, thinking it would be like a normal conversation, but, now that he was there, it was _everywhere_. the awareness that it was very much indeed a date.

  
"So. Wanna go to the porch? The sunset is beautiful, we could watch. If you want."

  
"Sure, why not?" Louis followed him, because, honestly, at least the guy had an idea. And it was, indeed, a beautiful sunset. The porch was big enough so that they managed to keep their privacy, which Louis was pretty grateful for, considering his situation.

  
They leaned on the porch wall, watching as the sun sat low, coloring the sky.

Louis laughed.

Greg looked at him. "What's funny?"

"I was watching the sun rise yesterday with a guy. Now I'm watching the sun go down with you. It's weird because, you know, it's the same sun. The same sun I was watching with him, I'm now watching with you."

"The sun is the same, in a relative way, indeed."

He laughed at the reference.

"So, a guy, uh? Do I have a competitor?"

Louis turned his head, surprised with the thought. "Er, no. No. Really, no. God, you have no idea, but no. The guy has nothing do with me. Very much straight, also. So, no."

"Okay, if you say so." Greg smiled, not sounding too convinced.

"I mean it."

"Fine, don't get all defensive. Here, lets have a sit. Tell me more about yourself."

So it began the real date. At least that was what Louis thought it should look like. Booth of them having drinks, asking each other not too personal but also not too shallow questions. Everything was looking great by the moment. Greg disliked football, which was a terrible flaw, but he made it up by saying that, despised finding the game boring, he thought that Louis looked fit in his uniform, at the charity games he watched him play. Louis smiled shyly at the compliment, and returned saying Greg also looked fit hosting his radio show, which he realized, after a couple of seconds, it was a stupid thing to say considering it was literally a _radio_ show. But, oh well. The date was going great so far. That was, up until the moment Greg asked him what he looked for in a partner.

"Uhm, I don't."

"What do you mean? You just wait for something to click? To happen? To connect with the person?"

"No, I just... I just don't look for a partner. At all. I mean, look at my life."

"What about your life?"

Louis looked at him in disbelief, gathering his words. "Are you serious?"

Greg shrugged. "Yeah."

"Well, I'm sure you've noticed but I'm a closeted fucking prince with the weight of literally a country in his shoulders. So, I guess the word we're looking for is... complicated."  
Greg stood up, finishing his drink. "Right."

"Wait, sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude."

"No, you didn't, I'm just... I'm curious for what you thought you agreed with this date."It was a good question. One that Louis didn't have an answer. An answer that would satisfy him, at least. He now realized he agreed to it only thinking about himself, about his ego and how good it would be to just be himself for a night. But he had forgotten, of course, that the other part of the date might have... different expectations.

"I just... I didn't think..."

  
"Yep. You didn't. Look, Louis, you're a great guy. You're gorgeous, has a great sense of humor and it's generally a nice guy." Louis was wondering if he should say thank you or something "But I'm in a different stage of my life. When you get there, give me a call."

Greg walked away, leaving Louis alone in the porch.

 

 

 

So, Louis might have had a few martinis. He wasn't drunk, though. Nope. Tipsy, perhaps. Never drunk. He couldn't afford to be drunk. Too much secrets to hide. Too much of a reputation to keep. So, when he was faced with two Harrys in front of him, it was definitely not the alcohol. The simpler explication was the appearance of a long lost twin brother. Which, uh. Huge scandal. One more heir to the throne. There were three already. Well, four, if you counted Anne, the current Queen. One more and it would equal the War Of Five Kings. Which didn't end up well. He should warn Harry. Wait, was it in real life or Game Of Thrones?

Maybe he was drunk.

"Louis."

"Uhmph, go away."

"Louis, you are practically asleep at the couch. I really don't want to be that person, but you'll thank me in the morning, so, you better sober up or people will start commenting. You know better than anyone that we have a reputation to keep."

"Fuck my reputation."

 

"Very rebel of you. Might as well join that anarchist group we saw yesterday."

  
"Ugh, don't talk about this, my headache will arrive faster."

"I'm serious. Drink this, you'll feel better."

Louis immediately felt suspicious, looking at the glass. Ok, it might be water. Still, better to be sure.

"I'm not drinking this. Thousands of royalty members have died of poisoning."

Harry gave him a half smile. "Why would I exactly poison you?"

"Well, you want my crown, obviously. You want the title of Grace Kelly all to yourself."

"I'm not that pretty." Louis gave him a suspicious look, but drank it anyway.

"Stay here, I'll get you coke."

Louis stood up, tensing up. "Uh, no thank you, I really don't..."

"The drink, you idiot."

"Oh, right." Louis looked embarrassed but a little more aware of everything around him. He couldn't believe he was saying this but he would have to thank Harry later for not making a fool of himself.

He returned with a bottle of coke and a piece of cake, for which he was also thankful. Uh. Weird night.

"There you go. This must help."

 

"Why are you helping me?"

It was Harry's turn to look embarrassed. "It's not like I was having any fun at the party. Zayn continues to... click with Liam and the duchess of somewhere is obsessed with my hair. I'm beginning to think that she only wants me to cut it so that she can keep the part that I'd cut."

Louis laughed. "Well, if she buggers you any longer you can go tell her that the prince of the country she resides in is very fond of your hair, and that kind of behavior could send her to prison."

"Thank you, I will." They smiled fondly at each other and immediately look away, because. It's not like that, their relationship. They don't do _fond_.

"Anyway, how was your date, uhm? You seemed pretty excited."

"Erhm, it didn't go that well."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Care to elaborate?"

Louis raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care?" Which, right, might have sounded a bit rude. It was Harry, though. They worked like that. Harry took a sip in the cup of coke he gave Louis. Okay, now they were sharing, apparently. "I don't. I'm gonna keep you talking until you sober up a bit, though. So. Spill it."

Uhm. Why not. "Whatever. I stopped seeing two of you. War of three kings now. That doesn't sound nearly as dangerous."

Harry frozed his eyebrows. "What?"

Louis rolled his eyes. "Your twin brother. Balon." Harry seemed seriously concerned now. "Whatever. Forget it. My point is I'm not that - _hic_ \- drunk anymore."

"Clearly."

"Clearly", Louis repeated, taking a sip of the glass.

"So."

"So.

"Are we going to start talking?"

"We are talking."

"Louis."

"Harry."

"God, you're so annoying." Harry finally broke down.

Louis laughed, glass in his hand. "Am not!"

They were both laughing now. "You always were! Even when we were the best of friends, you could manage to annoy me in a second. It was your specialty. I see some things never change."

"Uhm. I loved annoying you."

"I know."

They let the moment sink in. Louis tried to drunkenly hide his smile behind the glass of coke. Didn't work, though. It was glass after all.

"I'm gonna try it again. How was your date, Louis?"

"It was good until it wasn't, Harry, thank you very much."

"I'm sorry." Louis looked at him. He seemed genuinely sorry, which was a bit worrying.

"Yeah, it's fine. I've already came in peace with the fact that I'll die alone. Cheers!"

"Louis. Here, give me the glass" Harry took the it off his hands, which was good, considering he was probably about to shatter it. "It's not even alcohol, it doesn't give the same affect to swirl it around. Hey. Look at me." Harry cupped his face with his hands, which Louis would find funny and say a cute word with his mouth smashed at Harry's hands, but it was probably not the moment.

"Uhm?"

"You're twenty three years old. Stop being so dramatic. I'm sure you're gonna find the right person... guy for you. There are 7 billion people in the world. Let's assume 3.5 billions are guys. All yours. You can choose the lucky one. Okay, maybe few of them are straight. We ignore them."

Maybe Louis wasn't the only one drunk. Oops. Tipsy.

 

"Right. Whatever you say, Styles. He wasn't even that great, either. He disliked football."

"That's a terrible flaw." Harry seemed even a bit offended, although, as far as Louis could remember, Harry wasn't the biggest fan of footie either.

"I know, right? Fuck. Can't believe he was the one who dumped me. Technically."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. He was just looking for a relationship. Not like, at the first date, of course. But. At some point in his life. I guess he just found it pointless, our date."

"And you don't?"

"No. I don't have the life that fits that kind of thing. I mean, even if I did want it, I'm not a teenager anymore, secret dates and hiding doesn't sound too appealing."

"Well, if you didn't want to date him why would you agree to go out with him? You only wanted to... you know."

"Fuck him? That's alright you can say it. No. I mean, not that I didn't want it but I just wanted to feel normal for a night. To be myself and that kind of shit. Which was pretty selfish of my part, I see that now. Made this all about me, and that, my dear co-worker at being a prince, is why I will never be a good boyfriend. Even if I want to, one day."

The alcohol was still strong in his system, he noticed. That was the only explanation to why he was being honest with _Harry_ , of all people.

"You're wrong. One day you'll see that and I'll call you and annoy you until you say that I was right and you were wrong. Man, I love being right."

"Oh, so you're gonna be the one who annoys me this time?"

"I know just the way to annoy you too."

"That you do, Popstar. That you do."

"Hey, come here."

"Where we're going?? I don't want to see people Harry I only tolerate you cause you lack the heart that makes us all humans."

Harry grabbed Louis and pulled him to the center of the party. "I'm pretty sure that it's not the heart that makes us humans."

"Whatever. I'm drunk. You shouldn't be picky towards what drunk people say."

"Arrange your dress, Grace Kelly, 'cause you and I are going to dance."

Harry grabbed some coins and chose a song in the junk box, not letting Louis spy the title. So it came as a surprise when the first accords started.

_I want you to want me, I need you to need me_

"Oh my God, Harry, really?" Louis laughed in his hands. Hey, he was pretty tipsy, and a song of one his favorite movies was playing. He let himself drop the dramatic facade for awhile and pushed Harry to the dance floor along him.

"How did you remember?" Louis said, while Harry held him and danced with him. Part of his mind wondered how did they get from hating each other to happily dancing, but. It wasn't time to think.

_Didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you crying Oh, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you crying_

"Oh, how could I forget? You didn't stop talking about Heath Ledger for weeks after we watched the movies. I'm pretty sure you still know the lines."

Harry turned Louis body backwards and Louis laughed, laughed and laughed at the memory.

" _I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car..._ " Another spin. He was still pretty drunk, so his head just went along with it. It was a pretty nice moment, even if h was never going to admit out loud.

" _I hate it when you stare..." Harry continued. "I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind_."

So apparently they were quoting together. "Uh, I see that you also remember uh? Alright, two can play this game. _I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right._ "

Harry smirked at that, but continued it. " _I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry._ "

" _I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call._ " Louis tensed up a bit. Too honest. Too close to the truth. But they continued to dance.

Harry said the last line. " _But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all._ "

They stared right at each other, Louis' body almost on the floor, being held only by Harry. Their faces were only apart by inches. He thought it would be funny if he had a rose in his mouth, like those tangos. Uhm, focus. His mind searched for something, anything, to make the room lighter.

Louis stood straighter and laughed. "Careful, Styles, or I might begin to think you don't hate me that much after all."

"Uhm, what gave you that impression?"

Zayn's adapted dance floor was poorly illuminated, which Louis was grateful for. If someone had a good look at them, they might misread the whole situation. They might have passed for a couple, or something, and the thought scared Louis. Apparently he didn't do the whole "mortal enemies" thing very well. Only when they were countries apart. But, well, they were only ignoring each other at that time. Maybe he should go back to ignoring Harry. Yeah, shouldn't be too hard.

"The fact that you put a song of one my favorite movies to play and danced with me."

"Hmm. Not your favorite movie, though. You see, if I didn't hate you I'd have put 'Summer Nights' to play and we would be currently smashing a duet on the table."

"Just like old times?"

"Just like old times."

"You never forgot my favorite movie?" Louis voice was genuinely curious. He was kind of... touched. He never expects people to remember little things about him. He's usually the one who always remember, who's hunted by it.

"Are you serious? I could never forget, specially not after you called me 'Danny Zuko' today. I almost got emotional."

Louis hands were gathered at Harry's chest, and they were kind of slow dancing, which was not appropriated to the current music, but somehow seemed right. He admitted that this was not "mortal enemies" did together. He tried to imagine Harry Potter slow dancing with Voldemort and it didn't seem quite the same situation. Oh, well. Blame it on the alcohol.

"Uhmm, since you drove me here, how about taking me home, Danny Zuko?"

"What?" Harry's voice was a little high pitched. Louis wondered if it had been something he had said.

"I'm tired I wanna sleep and pray that I don't get too hungover and cuddle my pillow and wake up at 2 pm tomorrow. I'm about to sleep in your chest so unless you want to carry me around you better get your ass out of this party to drive me home. You can go back later if you want."

"Oh. Oh, right. Come on."

"Are we not saying goodbye to Zayn?"

"Zayn's occupied, I think."

"Uhm, what about the lady who wants your hair?"

Harry laughed. "We're most definitely not saying goodbye to her."

He grabbed Louis hand and pushed him towards the exit. He stopped, suddenly, and turned around, facing Louis.

"What now?"

"I'm in a motorcycle."

"Uhmm, yes you are, leader of T-Birds."

"You are drunk, Louis. You could fall."

"Hey, not that drunk! I just danced around with you."

"Yes, well, I carried you for the most part."

Louis considered for a second. He really didn't want to fall off the motorcycle. He would make a fool of himself. And it might put him in danger, of course. That too.

"Harry. This is ridiculous."

"Nope."

"I can handle it."

"Won't risk it. Won't risk _you_."

"So? Are you not taking me home?" He made his best puppy face, which he didn't know how it looked when drunk, but Harry seemed to be pretty moved by it.

"Shhh, let me call Zayn, he will lend me his car keys. I'll grab my motorcycle tomorrow."  
Harry began walking away and Louis followed, still with the puppy face. "Are you really just gonna leave me there? I might be kidnapped. I'm very small and pretty and drunk too so in the morning you'll pretend I never admitted these things."

"Nobody will want to kidnap you, Louis, you're safe."

"You don't know that. People will do horrors to royalty members. Look at the French Revolution. Or the red wedding."

"Fine, come on. Although I'm also royalty, so even more of a chance a slaughter happens. Two birds with one hand and stuff."

Harry grabbed Louis waist and they arrived safely till Zayn, to Louis' surprise. Zayn was alone, which also surprised him. The party was happening all around him at his apartment, but he was alone looking at the horizon, very emo on the porch. Louis wanted to ask what was up but he believed they didn't have the intimacy yet.  
Zayn raised an eyebrow to Harry's hand around Louis waist and their proximity, but landed it without problems.

They also managed to arrive safely at the parking lot (Louis only tripped once, but it might have something to do with the alcohol, not with people wanting to kill him) and got into a fancy black mysterious car.

"Can't believe I'm the prince yet there are people with cooler cars."

"You should make a rule against it."

"Meah. Don't wanna end up like Joffrey."

"Are all of your royalty references seriously out of Game Of Thrones?"

"No." That was simply outrageous. "I watched The Tudors too!"

Harry laughed. "Well, at least it isn't fantasy."

"And that movie, Anastasia. Do you think she's alive? I wonder if we could use our titles, pull some strings and investigate that kind of shit."

"She didn't make it out alive, no, and even if she did, her family died in 1916. She would be like 110 years old by now. So. No."

"You're no fun." Louis looked at him, sleepy. "Wait. Didn't you drink too?"

"Nope."

"Really? You didn't drink?"

"Wasn't in the mood. You always assume the worse of me. You assumed I was going to bring you fucking cocaine! And that I had to drink because I'm Harry fucking Styles and I was at a party so I must I don't know, be selling meth. I bet you also assumed that I only watched Breaking Bad with you that night with the purpose of becoming the next Walter White. For God's sake, Louis."

"Wow, calm down Popstar. Was only asking to know that, if you hadn't had a drink, then the taking care of me, the dancing and the talk about movies and stuff, this was all you? Not the alcohol? You?"

Harry blushed and blushed hard, Louis assumed, if he could see in the pale light of the lamp posts and in his tipsy state.

"Let's just go home. We're both tired."

" _Home._ "

"What about it?"

"You called it home. My house, I mean."

Harry was already blushed from Louis' previous comment, so, no alterations in his face this time.

"Jesus, you really have no filter when you drink, do you? Let's agree to not speak again. Let me drive and, I don't know, sleep."

Louis didn't sleep, instead murmured the tune of the song they danced, "I Want You Yo Want Me". It didn't count as speaking, but annoyed Harry as well, so, he won.

 

 

 

They arrived safely at the castle. Harry helped Louis get into his own room and then disappeared to his own. Or the guest room, he managed to remember. He was getting ready to bed, thinking of how pathetic his love life was. He went to a party in a ride by his mortal enemy and ex bff. He met his date there. Date didn't go well. He hang the rest of the party with the bff and ex mortal enemy. Oops. Ex bff and current mortal enemy. Honestly, his brain.  
But, somehow, the thought of spending the night with Harry over his date didn't seem so pathetic as it should have. Perhaps it was the familiarity of it all. Perhaps it was the fact that he really did have a good time, and Harry did take care of him. Not that he would ever talk about it. Maybe he would just like, thank him, or something, but then pretend it never happened.

Just when he was laying down, he heard music. He was about to yell to Harry to shut up (by now he was pretty sure it was him), when he recognized the melody. Louis then proceed to go to his porch, joining Harry who was serenading the moon with his guitar and his voice.

"Feeling nostalgic, Holly Golightly?"

Harry smiled.

"What does that make you, Paul?"

"Well, I did heard you singing "Moon River" facing the sky."

"Right. But Paul didn't interrupted her. He just looked, fascinated."

Louis shrugged.

"Then I guess I'm not Paul."

"I guess not."

Harry kept strumming his guitar.

The air was chilly, but the night was perfectly clear, with thousands of stars painting little white points in the dark sky.

"Holly?"

"Yes, Louis?"  
Harry looked up at the sky.

"Thank you."

"What for?" He looked at Louis, smiling. Right. So he wasn't about to make this easy.

"Taking care of me. And distracting me. I had a really great time. I won't ever say it again but you're a great dancer."

Harry smiled way too pleased with himself for Louis likes. Fortunately, he looked at the sky again when he replied, not making the moment anymore awkward than it already was.

"It was my pleasure, Louis. You're an adorable drunk."

Right.

"Okay, then. Goodnight, Curly."

He prepared to go back to his room.

"Louis?" Harry called, just as he was about to go inside.

"Yeah?"

There was a pause.

"Nothing. Goodnight."

Louis walked into his room, wondering what Harry was going to say. Guess he would never know.

As he fell asleep, he heard a distant melody, mixing it into his dreams.

 

 

_Moon river, wider than a mile  
I'm crossing you in style some day  
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker  
Wherever you're going  
I'm going your way  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so. My apologies for the long wait!! I had been busy and on writing slump, to be honest. This won't happen again. The next chapter will be here sooner, I promise. Hope it was worth the wait. Also, on the next chapter, things really start happening.


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